


Song of Surrender

by Jazz_2_chess



Category: DCU
Genre: Batfamily (DCU), Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Relationship, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd is Red Hood, M/M, Past Character Death, Self-Worth Issues, Trauma, Trust Issues, self-destructive behaviour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:53:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 36,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27068188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jazz_2_chess/pseuds/Jazz_2_chess
Summary: Dick still dreams of him. Not every night but the dreams are there and they haunt him. So when he observes Red Hood delivering a kick he had only ever seen Jason do like that, everything in him stops.Behause Jason is dead.Jason is dead.Right?
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Damian Wayne
Comments: 32
Kudos: 257





	1. Come back to me...

**Author's Note:**

> I sure hope you enjoy this story. If so, let me know your thoughts & feelings in the comments. If not, also please let me know. 
> 
> Oh, and if you'd like, you could also read up on my other works.

> _We don't even ask for happiness. Just a little less pain._

A lovely smell of tomatos coated the air. Dick slowly made it to the kitchen while pulling on a loose sweater. He had been training for the better part of the day and craved a meal before going on patrol. Expecting to find Alfred down there, he walked briskly through the door, not even looking at his surroundings, with his sweater half-way over his head.

“Oi, look where you’re going!” Dick heard before he bumped into someone significantly smaller than him. He managed to pull his head free and stopped in his tracks.

“What are you-” he changed courses when his eyes had time to take in the state of the kitchen, “where’s Alfred?” 

All he got was a shrug and a huff. Typical. 

“You cookin’ tonight?” he tried again, hoping for a verbal response this time.

“No.”

“Then what-”

“None of your business, Grayson,” came the snarl full of venom. Dick would have backed away then and there if not for the slight blush dusting Jason’s cheeks.

As it were, he never missed a chance to rile up Jason, especially, if the opportunity presented itself on a silver platter. He just couldn’t resist.

“Maybe I want to make it my business…” he let his voice drop deliberately and watched that blush extend further up his cheekbones and towards his ears. Adorable really.

“Fuck off,” Jason pressed out but he stepped away when Dick moved forward.

“Tsts, you shouldn’t swear, Little Wing…” Using his nickname was so far off from fair, it should have been labelled under “only use as a last resort”. Still, it was worth it, seeing Jason practically implode with impotent rage. 

“Anyway,” he wandered over to the stove, peering into the pot happily bubbling away, “what’re you making?”

Out of the corners of his eyes, Dick could see Jason struggle with making a decision. Either, he could tell Dick to fuck off or – and this, Dick had learnt, was much more likely – he could cave. And Jason caved beautifully. Dick should know.

“Pasta.”

“Smells good,” he commented, gaze still averted. After a minute or so, he heard Jason step closer until he stood directly beside Dick.

“Alfred said, he liked penne arrabiata…” Jason mumbled, eyes fixed on the pot.

“So you’re making it for him?” Something in Dick’s throat felt impossibly tight. He didn’t remember when he had done that for Alfred. Then again, he would probably burn the kitchen and Alfred with it.

“You like to cook, Jay?” he asked, making it sound deliberately nonchalant. His heart, meanwhile was simmering with affection. Jason had always been the epitome of tough on the outside, soft on the inside. It had taken Dick months to realise. At first, because he had wanted to hate this kid, hate him and make him disappear to wherever he had come from. But even he hadn’t been able to look away for long when Jason had showed his kind side every now and then. Whenever he did, Dick found him thoroughly disarming. And still so adorably flustered.

It was like that time when Dick had put him on his back in training, hovering over him with his wrists held to the floor. God, that had been fun.

“Yeah,” Jason’s lips twitched like his mouth had wanted to smile and Jason had bitten back on it.

“If it tastes like it smells, Alfred’s going to love it,” Dick couldn’t help but say. He would have hit himself on the head if not for the glimmer in Jason’s eyes when he looked at him.

“You think?”

“Sure,” he reiterated. Jason turned away, probably to hide his smile like he so often did. Dick wanted to protest but knew, it would only make Jason angry. God, he was so angry all the time. Dick couldn’t relate. He had always been cheery. 

“Dick-” 

“Hm?” Dick looked up. For one second, his heart set out. His breath got caught in his lungs. Because Jason’s mouth was suddenly covered in blood, dripping down his chin.

“Jay- what’s wrong?” He barely manged to ask, voice high with anxiety. 

“I- I don’t know… I don’t feel good…” He collapsed to the floor, not even trying to catch himself.

“What’s happening? Were you injured on patrol? What’s going on?” Dick frantically tried to pull Jason up but the younger boy didn’t have the strength.

“Hurts…” he murmured with glassy eyes. Dick watched as bruises appeared on his body, how cuts opened on his arms and his shoulders. The hoodie and jeans were gone, exchanged for a red and green uniform Dick knew too well.

“No,” he whispered, “no, no, no, no…” His arms tightened around Jason’s form. He didn’t know where to look, what to do. Jason’s chest heaved with the effort it took to breathe.

“No more- no more- please- I can’t-” Jason hiccoughed. It came out wet, “I can’t take it anymore…”

“Jay- Jaybird…” Dick tried to stop the bleeding, pressed down hard on the wounds that wouldn’t stop oozing blood.

“Sorry- I’m-” he was shaken by a coughing fit, blood spraying from his mouth, “sorry, Dickie…”

Dick watched in horror as Jason’s eyes closed and his body stopped moving.

* * *

“No!” Dick sat up in bed, drenched with sweat. His heart beat so fast, it felt like he had just run a marathon.

“Fuck,” he buried his head in his hands, noticed they were trembling, that his entire body was. Another nightmare, he realised. He didn’t have them every day but often enough that they plagued him.

_Jason._

The fear in his eyes, the pain, Dick could barely take it. He had been so young, so stubborn. Dick could only imagine what it had been like, the ambush, his- his death. He had spent years trying to get it in his head that Jason was dead, that he wouldn’t come back. That night haunted him like nothing else ever did. He hadn’t been there, had only heard it from Bruce but his brain had made it a point to come up with scenarios of what it could have been like.

Regularly, that nightmare came and showed him how Jason had been broken. At one point, he had wanted to ask about it, had desired to know. Just so that he could stop guessing and dreaming up a more horrible way for Jason to die.

But they didn’t talk about him. Never. Because Bruce couldn’t stand being reminded of his worst failure. Yet, Dick wanted to talk, he wanted to keep Jason alive in his memory. Because Jason deserved better than what they had given him. 

Dick tossed around for a few minutes, trying to find a position where he didn’t feel Jason peering over his shoulder with that vicious snarl. He wanted to see him smile again. Those rare moments when he had let go of all that anger, he had looked so happy. Even in his dreams, Jason never smiled. With time, his voice had become something hollow, like Dick’s head had trouble recalling what he actually sounded like and had come up with his own version – which was so horribly wrong.

Dick wished he could still hear him.

* * *

At dinner – as per usual – Dick tried to intervene before a physical fight could break out between Tim and Damian. They went at each other with enough insults that even Bruce raised a brow.

“I suggest, you both quit it right now,” Bruce said, fork hovering in front of his mouth.

“I’m not changing patrol plans at the last minute because you two don’t get along.” Dick nodded agreement. He had a long night yet to go and he would not share it with either of them.

Secretly, he was glad Bruce didn’t insist on him taking a partner on patrol anymore. Then again, that had been reserved for _him_ and they didn’t talk about that.

“Dick, I want you in sector C tonight,” Bruce gestured at the map of Gotham behind him, for some reason still displayed in the dining room.

“We should take that down,” Tim murmured around a bite of his carrot. Dick caught Damian nodding absentmindedly. He had just decided not to call him out, when Tim did it for him.

“See?” he grinned, “even the brat agrees.”

“Tim-” Bruce’ voice held a warning, though not a very serious one.

“Seize calling me that, Drake, or I will make you regret it!” Aaaand they were back at square one. Bruce and Dick exchanged a glance, both slightly exhausted with their constant bickering. 

“I heard there’s supposed to be a shipment coming in on the docks,” Bruce continued like Damian and Tim hadn’t said anything. Meanwhile, Dick focussed on eating since the docks weren’t his terrain and therefore, not his problem.

* * *

It was almost three am. when Dick climbed up on a roof top to breathe for a second. He had a good view from up here and Gotham seemed rather calm, at least for now. Fiddling with his escrimas, he sat down, let his legs have a break until he had to make a final round. Across the roofs, he let his gaze wander, taking in the city and the nightly air. In his periphery, he suddenly noticed movement and instantly stood.

Two figures on a nearby roof top seemingly talking. Now that alone wouldn’t have been suspicious if he hadn’t recognised the bright red helmet one of them was wearing.

Red Hood. 

_G_ _reat._

He had had few encounters with the guy already, none of which had gone over peacefully. What the hell was he even doing in bat territory? Hood was so far off his own turf, it made Dick suspicious. He sneaked closer, trying to stay undetected until he could hear what those two were talking about. It had to be important if Red Hood decided to screw territory lines. As far as Dick knew, he was quite particular about those and didn’t like leaving his part of the city.

Despite his initial idea of how this encounter was going to end for both parties involved, the other guy did a 180 on both Hood and Dick’s expectations. He pulled out a gun, aiming at Hood. Dick was about to intervene, even though, he wasn’t sure whose side he was supposed to take, when Hood fell into motion, smooth like water cascading down a well.

Dick could appreciate his fighting style, it was quite impressive to behold; a combination of brute force and impossibly precise movements. Keeping his head low, he stepped closer still, watching a little mesmerised as Hood and the other guy went at each other. 

Then, Hood fell – or rather, Dick supposed, made it look like he was falling – only to execute a low kick that made his opponent fall backwards so hard, Dick heard the crack of bones from where he was standing. That wasn’t what had caught his attention though.

It was the kick. 

That particular low kick.

His mind reeled. He couldn’t breathe. 

It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. Even in their line of work. It _could not_ be true. And yet, he knew what he had seen. Undoubtedly. Dick would have known that move anywhere. He had never seen anyone do it quite like him. Dick stopped all movement. Stared.

“Jason?”

His throat felt sore, the name sat wrong in his mouth. He hadn’t said it in ages. Not even to himself. Nobody had dared, like a secret swept under the rug, a taboo binding their tongues. Jason Todd was not talked about, never, under any circumstance. To Dick, his memory felt like a ghost holding the Manor in its grip and yet nobody could ever reach it.

The figure with the hood stopped too, mid-kick. Like time had frozen around the both of them and held them captive in an eternal state of uncertainty. 

“Jason?” Dick repeated, tasting his name like water after a week of delirium. No answer came. He didn’t dare hope, didn’t want to believe for the fear, his mind was playing a trick on him.

“Jason? Is that you?” All he could see was red. The head turned to him, cautiously almost. Dick’s fingers cramped around his escrimas. He urged to rip that helmet off, to see the face beneath.

“Grayson.” And the voice – _his_ voice – knocked Dick right over. His legs gave out under him; his knees hit the ground.

“You’re dead,” Dick whispered, breath coming too short. He felt like his heart was beating too fast and yet not at all.

“You’re _dead_ \- you can’t be…” he was mumbling nonsenses, eyes glued to that helmet that wouldn’t show a glimpse of the face he longed to see.

“Not dead, Dickiebird…” The nickname. _That_ nickname. The one only Jason had used. Dick managed one last glance upwards before his body betrayed him. He didn’t feel his head hitting the ground because the red-hooded figure caught him in time.

It wasn’t Jason, his mind yelled at him.

_It couldn’t be Jason._

* * *

That night could not have gone worse. Okay, it _could_ have gone worse but considering, Jason had thought it to be a regular exchange of information for money, he was unpleasantly surprised with how it had turned out. Sure, doing business in bat territory was never a good idea but his informant had been adamant. Jason had conceded and had met him on a rooftop, fairly far off from the bats’ usual routes. He had made it a point to keep an eye on them after his return.

Wouldn’t want to run into them more than necessary.

You see, he had been attending to business when his informant – out of the blue – had decided to be a complete asshole and withhold his information. Jason was a reasonable guy. Most of the time anyway. And he had tried talking it out. That had been the precise moment when his informant had drawn a gun on him, which was really, really bad idea. Jason didn’t take lightly to being threatened.

“Believe me,” he had snarled, thoroughly annoyed, “you don’t want to do this.”

Instead of an answer or a snide remark, his informant had charged at him, gun seemingly forgotten. Well, Jason had never been able to decline such a clear invitation of battle. Therefore, he had done the only logical thing and had dealt blows left and right. At one particular low kick – the one he had always had excelled in since he had started training – he had heard a sharp inhale behind him followed by the call of his name. With a well-placed elbow to the head, his informant had gone down, unconscious.

Jason had turned, hairs on his neck rising like danger was close. Only, it hadn’t been the kind of danger, he had anticipated.

Now, Dick Grayson was splayed out on Jason’s couch, in full Nightwing attire and completely out of it. Jason had no idea why the idiot had fainted but he was about to get answers and if it took all night. He didn’t want to examine too closely why he had even brought Dick here, or why he hadn’t let him fall onto his damn head and left him there. 

“What-” Dick sat up with a start, instantly taught as a bow and ready to fight. Jason rolled his eyes. This wasn’t healthy behaviour, now, was it? 

“Where am I?” So, apparently, Dick was still the same idiot he had always been. If their roles had been reversed, Jason would have dived out of the window, the second, he had regained consciousness. But then again, he had always been a little less trusting than Dick. 

“You fainted,” Jason said from where he was leaning against the wall. He was glad for Dick’s domino. Having those eyes covered certainly helped him remain calm.

“Why-” but Dick’s question got stuck somewhere when he startled so badly, he almost fell off the couch.

“Jason,” he breathed with that same damn tone he had had on that fucking roof top. Even then, Jason had had no idea why Dick had acted the way he had. Sure, he had been in the bats’ part of town but still. No reason to faint, was it? Unless, Dick had been injured before? 

“Were you injured?” Jason blurted out before he could think it through. He hated himself for the worry creeping up his spine. Why did he even care? It wasn’t like Dick had attempted to talk to him ever since he had made it back. But Dick didn’t even acknowledge he had spoken, instead repeating his name again.

“Jason-”

“That’s my name, Dickie, don’t wear it out,” he bit out with increasing agitation.

“Can you-” Jason watched Dick fidget with his fingers, before he gestured towards Jason’s head.

“Can I what?” Not that was about to heed every request but he could be coaxed into agreeing if Dick was reasonable enough. 

“Take that thing off?” 

“My helmet,” he asked, confused, “why?”

“I need- I need to see your face.”

“You need to see my face,” that sounded completely unnecessary and frankly, a bit ridiculous, “what do you need to see my face for?”

“Just do it, okay?”

“Nope, can do.” Sure, he could. But he didn’t want to. His helmet was the only thing protecting him from Dick’s gaze. He didn’t want to stand before him without armour. God knew, Dick was a lethal force and not to be underestimated. Jason certainly wasn’t about to.

“Take the damn thing off,” Dick snapped. Which in and of itself was interesting. Jason couldn’t recall Dick getting snappy easily. 

“Why? ‘m I makin’ you uncomfortable, Big Bird?” Dick’s reaction once he got a good look at his face was quite the reason not to take it off. He certainly didn’t want to see either the pity or disgust with which people looked at him, thank you very much. Apart from that, he still didn’t understand why Dick was suddenly so interested. He had never been before.

“No.” Dick stalked forward, stopping much too close in front of Jason without leaving him with anywhere to go. Unless, he wanted to shove Dick into a wall. Which was tempting as ever, but would get him in trouble faster than the time he would need to exit via the window. He wasn’t about to take his chances on that. Meanwhile, Dick had taken off his domino, although, God knew why.

Probably, because he knew, Jason had a hard time when confronted with those pools of blue.

“I just want to see your face when I talk to you.” Dick sounded like he wouldn’t back down and Jason found, he couldn’t quite tell him no any longer. Not with the way Dick’s eyes pleaded with him. Damn that blue. Jason always had had a soft spot for it.

“Have it your way then, Goldie,” he spat, “always your way…”

“Thank you,” Dick snapped back, not missing a beat. He crossed his hands over his chest, defiant even when Jason complied with his request. Meanwhile, Jason had to take a breath and remind himself not to watch Dick’s face too closely, just in case. The safety clicked under his trembling fingers, he gave one pull and the helmet came off. Despite knowing better, he still watched Dick take him in.

He saw the smugness vanish once Dick saw what Jason had been trying to hide from him. 

“What-” his voice caught in the middle of the word and he left the question unfinished. Seemingly without meaning to, Dick reached out to him. For but a second, Jason thought, he was about to touch his cheek. Something in his face must have made Dick pause, though.

“I didn’t know,” Dick sounded sucker punched and Jason didn’t know what to say.

“God, Jason, I didn’t _know_.” Dick said that quite a lot, Jason noticed. 

“Does it matter?”

“Yes! Of course, it does!” Jason shrugged, unbothered by Dick’s outrage.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why does it matter? It doesn’t to me.” That was a lie. It mattered. In fact, it mattered so much, he could barely look at himself in the mirror. But he wasn’t about to admit to that. Admitting it meant, it was real. And if it was real, Jason was doomed. As long as he could tell himself he was fine, he would be.

He just couldn’t have something disrupt his perfect illusion where death had never laid a finger on him. 

“Because-” Dick spluttered “because he did that to you- he did that and I can’t-”

“What? Can’t look at me? You asked me to take off my helmet, Dickie, so deal with it.” He crossed his arms, uncomfortable with the way Dick was staring at his cheek. Like a ghost, he could feel the blade of a knife carving into his skin. He shivered, tried to shrug it off and find something in his flat to anchor him to the present. He wasn’t about to let himself go back there with Dick five inches in front of him.

Not that Dick cared. 

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Sounded like it to me.” Jason shrugged, trying to signal, he didn’t care either way. Except that he did, he just didn’t want Dick to know. 

“You’re determined to hear what you want to hear. Even when it’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what _are_ you saying?” Seriously. Could he get to the point already? Jason had better things to do than listen to Dick stuttering his way through an answer. He certainly had no idea where that sudden interest came from. Nightwing and Red Hood had gone head to head before and Dick hadn’t batted an eye. Why now? Although, Jason supposed, it was rather strange what Dick had been saying on that roof top.

 _You’re dead_ , he had said, like he didn’t know Jason was back.

But that was impossible. The bats knew, they just didn’t care, Jason reminded himself forcefully. 

“That I’m sorry!” Dick yelled, loud enough that it hurt Jason’s ears, “I’m _sorry_ , okay? That’s what I wanted to say.”

“What are you sorry for, Dickiebird? You didn’t put that here.” He pointed at his cheek, careful not to touch it even with his gloves on. The thought of any physical contact in that place made his stomach turn. 

“I didn’t know- Bruce said…” but Jason would never know what Bruce had said because Dick kept stammering like he had lost his marbles somewhere. Probably on that roof top, but Jason couldn’t be sure.

“I thought, he just killed you.” Jason’s brain screeched to a halt mid thought. 

“Pardon?” Because he couldn’t have said that, right? Dick had _not_ just said what Jason thought he had heard.

But Dick repeated that same sentence again.

“I thought he had just killed you…” It made the hairs on Jason’s arms stand on, hearing Dick say it so casually. _Just killed me._

_That he had just killed me._

Right. 

Because getting killed was such a walk in the park, was it? 

“Dickie…” the growl in his voice resonated through his entire body, like the anger cursing in his veins.

Still, Dick didn’t seem to realise, he just kept talking.

“I thought he had just killed you and I didn’t even… I didn’t even know…” he sounded horrified but Jason didn’t have the patience to figure out about what. He didn’t even want to. Instead, he was itching to punch something, to hurt someone.

_Anyone.  
_

“Dick-” he ground out, “I will decorate those walls with your brain if you say that shit one more fucking time!”

Dick didn’t hear him, didn’t even react. He kept staring at that- that goddamn scar and Jason wanted to turn away.

“I didn’t know… I didn’t know…” The litany made the fragile little strand of sanity inside of Jason snap right in half. He was on Dick within a second, shoving him against the wall so that he stood on this toes. His gun was in his hands an aimed at Dick’s head, his finger twitching around the trigger.

“What the fuck are you talking about! Fuckin’ answer me!”

“He tortured you,” Dick mumbled, “he tortured you and I didn’t know… I thought- I thought…”

He looked at Dick like if he could only catch his eye, he would understand what the fuck was going on. And he saw it, saw that Dick was crying. Jason stumbled away, bile rising in his throat.

“Jay…” he muttered it so softly, with so much emotion, something violent in Jason’s chest burst like a damn. 

“Don’t-” he croaked, “don’t call me that…”

Once more, Dick didn’t seem to hear him.

“I didn’t know, Jay- you have to believe me, I didn’t know…”

“Please don’t-” Jason almost fell over himself in his hast to get as much distance between him and Dick as he could. His back hit the counter and he bodily rolled over it.

“Forgive me?” Dick breathed, “Jay… please…”

“I don’t- Dickie- please…” They were both pleading with each other and neither could give the other what he was pleading for.

“Why not?” Dick asked, sounding strangled.

“’cause I can’t be that-”

“Be what?”

“ _That_ \- I can’t be that- not anymore…” How could Dick not understand? Didn’t he see? Didn’t he see how damaged Jason was? The price he had paid to come back? 

“I’m not asking you to. I’m not asking you to be anything other than you.” Then what was he asking? Why was he here? Jason couldn’t deal with this. He had avoided the bats for so long, precisely for that reason. Because they didn’t care he was back. They didn’t give a damn about him. And now, Dick was talking like he did, like Jason mattered and Jason had no idea what to do with any of it. 

“But you called me Jay… that’s- that’s not my name anymore…” He didn’t know how to make him understand that the boy he had known wasn’t there anymore. That he had to become something else, someone stronger, less fragile to survive on the streets alone. Someone, the bats had condemned after they had first talked to him, full of dismissal and ignorance. They had shown him that day that they didn’t care what he had gone through, that they didn’t care he was alive. He was an outlaw, someone less than them. And Jason had taken it to heart, had understood that he wasn’t family, didn’t belong. 

“Why not? Don’t you- don’t you like it?” Dick asked like he had had a choice in the matter. Like the bats hadn’t been responsible for his becoming Red Hood, for his becoming what he was. It hadn’t been Jason’s choice to leave that boy behind, to let Jay disappear so that Red Hood could rise. 

“’Cause I’m not that boy anymore- Dickie- I- I’m missin’ a few years in my head and I can’t…” He stopped himself before he could blurt out too much. God knew what Dick would do with the information. Pity him? 

“You can’t what?”

“I can’t be that, okay?” he settled on, “I can’t go back there…”

“You don’t have to,” Dick said with conviction, “I don’t want you to.”

“Then what do you want, Dickie?” he was so exhausted with this situation, with the emotional rollercoaster Dick put him through, “I can’t- you’re not makin’ sense.”

“I know, I’m sorry, just-” there was a drawing of breath and then Dick said, “why didn’t you tell us?”

“Tell you?” somewhere, they had to have taken a wrong turn in this conversation because Jason was lost as to what Dick was talking about, “tell you what?”

“Tell me, you were alive.”

The world screeched to a stop. 

* * *

The silence spreading between them held too many emotions. Dick’s mind was reeling with the information he had gathered ever since he had woken up. First and foremost: Jason was _alive_. He still couldn’t believe it. This was Jason’s face and Jason’s voice and Jason’s everything.

Only not really.

It was hard not to notice all the changes. Because Jason had grown up, that much was beyond clear. In Dick’s mind, he had remained a teenager, coming up to his shoulder with a slender built. Now, Jason easily surpassed Dick in height and built, broad shoulders, thick thigs, bulging arms. Dick had to look up to meet his gaze, would have to stand on his toes to be on eye level.

His voice had changed too, more gravel than smooth, a dark, rich bass. Dick couldn’t help but shudder at this new Jason. Sure, Dick had always suspected Jason would grow up handsome, but he had never had the chance to see if he was right. Now that he had, he almost wished back that stubborn, freckled teenage boy because that was much easier to handle than the Jason leaning against the wall.

Dick took in the shock of white hair and instantly wanted to run his hand through it. There were other – less alluring – changes too. Dick didn’t remember Jason’s skin being quite that pale, nor his freckles to be this faded. Had his eyes always been that shade of green? 

_No._

_Definitely not._

Dick was quite sure, Jason had always had teal eyes, not green ones. Then there were the scars. He could only see a few but even those were painfully prominent. Dick barely managed not to flinch away when he had gotten sight of Jason’s cheek. Like a cruel joke, the letter J had been carved into the skin there. Another scar wrapped around his neck, reminding Dick of a hangman’s rope. Dick wondered if the rest of him looked like this too, if there were scars littering his entire body. He didn’t want to think about the things Jason had probably done to stay alive. Which brought him back to his question.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” the accusation swung in his words despite his biting back on it. Jason’s eyebrow shot up when he heard it.

His answer was muffled but Dick caught the tail end “not like you care.” White hot rage flared up inside him at the insinuation. He barely managed to stop himself from reacting, only because he knew, Jason thought the worst of everyone because it was easier than being disappointed.

“You really think that?” he asked instead, gaze focussed on Jason to see every minute reaction he might try to conceal.

“What else is there to think? You didn’t give a damn about me then and you don’t give a damn about me now. You proved that.”

“How did I prove that?”

“So, you really don’t remember kicking me unconscious? No? Doesn’t ring a bell?”

“Jason-” Dick forced calm into his voice as to make Jason understand what he was saying. Because it was important and it did matter.

“I didn’t _know_ , you were alive. I didn’t _know_ , you were Red Hood.”

“Let’s say I believe you-” he didn’t look like it but Dick would take it, “let’s say I do, that doesn’t change the fact that you don’t give a fuck about me. You never have!”

“That’s not true!” If only he could tell him. But he knew, that would make Jason run even faster and Dick would not chance it. Not when it still felt like talking to a ghost. 

“No? Could have fooled me!”

“Jason-” Dick was reaching the end of his wits here.

“No. See- that’s the problem with you- you keep sayin’ my name like it’ll change anything. But it doesn’t!”

“Then tell me what would!” Dick felt like on the verge of tears. He didn’t know how to come to terms with all of this all while Jason looked like he wanted to disappear again. And Dick was fairly sure, he could not handle that.

“What would?”

“What would change something,” he said, catching Jason’s gaze. He didn’t miss the narrowing of his eyes.

“I don’t know- I need-” he took a deep breath, shoulders relaxing down, “I can’t get it into my head that you care, you know? Not after coming back and-”

“And us not talking to you?”

“Yeah.”

“Jay- if I had- if I had known, don’t you think, I would’ve tracked you down?” he asked softly, almost too quietly but he couldn’t bring himself to say it louder, fearing Jason would react badly again.

“Would you have?” Jason’s question, in return, was just as quiet, just as tentative. It broke Dick’s heart that he doubted him, that he didn’t knew they would have moved heaven and earth to get him back.

“Of course,” Dick said. He hoped, his determination came off as genuinely as he meant it.

“I was sure, you knew…” Jason murmured, almost like he said it to himself.

“I didn’t,” Dick repeated, “I swear to you, I didn’t know.”

“I need-” he took another heavy breath, “I need to think about this.”

“Okay,” Dick held up his hands, “take all the time you need- I’m not- I’ll be there if you want to- to catch up or something…”

“This is my flat,” Jason pointed out and Dick looked up at the change in his voice. It had lost some of its gravel, sounded lighter than before.

“Oh,” he said, an embarrassed grin pulling at his lips, “oh, of course, sorry.” He was at the door within a second.

“If-” he turned around just before heading out, “how can I reach you?”

“I’ll come to you,” Jason promised but Dick noticed hesitance with how he said it. Like he wouldn’t actually go through with it. His anxiety level went through the roof at the prospect.

“Promise me,” he asked, aware of how pathetic he sounded, “promise me, Jay?”

“I-” Dick saw him looking down, his hands fidgeted by his sides like he wanted to hold onto something but couldn’t, then he visibly shook something off and lifted his gaze.

“Promise.”

* * *

The way back home, Dick didn’t pay attention to his surroundings. His mind was busy, recalling every word Jason had said. He couldn’t put it together, couldn’t process what had happened. At the door, he missed the bell, hit his elbow on the railing of the stairs and he almost took a deep dive off the first floor because he was so distracted.

“Alfred?” He had decided, while driving, that he needed Alfred to be the first to hear it. Dick owed it to him. Bruce wasn’t the only one who had lost a son that day. Alfred had too. And he was certainly much more adapt to handle Jason’s resurrection than Bruce. Because Bruce didn’t talk about Jason and Dick needed to. Right now.

“Master Dick?” Alfred appeared out of nowhere – as was his custom – with a worried raise of his brow.

“I need to talk to you, but you can’t- we can’t tell Bruce right now because he’ll never believe it and-”

“How about you take a deep breath and start at the beginning?” he laid a gentle hand on Dick’s arm, guiding him towards the living room couch.

“From the beginning, Master Dick.”

“Jason’s alive!” Dick instantly blurted out, “Jason is alive and I just talked to him and we have to- God, we have to do something.”

“I beg your pardon?” Dick didn’t miss the way Alfred’s voice caught on a non-existent obstacle.

“Jason is alive,” Dick repeated while the smile that had been lurking took hold of his lips. He couldn’t help the mad grin from showing. Not when it finally clicked in his head that Jason had been real.

“I- Master Dick- that cannot be true.”

“I know- okay? I know but I saw his face, I talked to him. And he was real!”

“Are you sure?” He had never, in all his life, heard Alfred sound this conflicted. Dick fully understood why. On the one hand, he wanted to believe Dick was right but it would so bad, on the other, if he wasn’t.

“I promise, I talked to him.”

“It was truly him?” Alfred asked, still sceptical, “not some illusion or clone?”

“It was him,” he knew it, in his bones. No one would have been able to fool Dick. Not when it came to Jason.

“I am-” Alfred took a deep breath, likely to get himself under control, “I am unsure as to how to break the news to Master Bruce.”

Dick wholeheartedly agreed. 

“May I ask how he was?”

“Angry,” Dick answered recalling the seething fury ablaze in Jason’s eyes, “he was so angry.”

“With you?”

“With all of us. Because he thought we knew, he was alive and didn’t care.”

“That does sound like Master Jason,” Alfred said around a half-smile. Dick noticed the slight tremor of his voice

when he said Jason’s name. It was for the same reason, it had felt so strange to Dick.

“I don’t know what he had to do to come back but-” he didn’t know quite how to word it, “but I think, it changed him.”

Alfred nodded, “that does not surprise me.”

“No,” Dick agreed, “but I don’t know how to tell B.”

“Calmly,” Alfred said but, in his voice, Dick detected barely concealed worry. They sat in silence for moment, both ingulfed in their own thoughts.

“Did he seem like himself at all?”

Dick snorted, “yeah, that’s how I was so sure, it was really him.”

“And he still looks the same?” Alfred asked and broke Dick’s heart in the process.

“He’s grown up,” he said, conscious of how that would feel having missed it, “taller than me, like one giant muscle.”

He didn’t comment on Alfred’s not giving an answer.

“He said, he was missing a few years in his head.”

“Did he say how he-” he paused, seemingly searching for the right word when there wasn’t any, “was able to return?”

“No. But I think, I’m going to have ask him.” The prospect alone felt like a minefield. If he said one wrong word, Jason could vanish.

“It would be wise,” Alfred said. Dick glanced at him and saw how unsettled he looked.

He knew the feeling.

* * *

A family meeting is what this kind of gathering was called. Dick had decided, after talking to Alfred, that he needed to get this over with or he would burst. Lucky for him, Tim and Dami came into the cave half an hour later, still bickering like nobody’s business but both wide awake. That would certainly make it easier.

“Where is father?” Damian asked briskly while pulling on a hoodie. Tim watched, already in his normal clothes.

“He should be here in a minute,” Dick said, nervously biting at his finger nails, “I already talked to him.”

“So what is this about?” Tim stepped forward, eyes narrowed, “you sounded urgent.”

“Did someone get hurt?” Bruce came in, sounding on edge. Dick shook his head.

“I talked to someone tonight.”

“And that’s cause for a family meeting why?” Tim had his arms crossed and an interesting expression on his face, like he was figuring Dick out before he had even said anything.

“It is. Because-” breathe in, he reminded himself, steady now, “because that someone should be dead.”

There were three different reactions to his statement, all of which Dick had foreseen correctly. Tim merely raised a brow, inquisitive but not entirely surprised. Damian looked highly uncomfortable like he didn’t even want to think about death. And then there was Bruce. It was moments like this when Dick thought, he might know already. But the blatant fear in his eyes told a different story.

“Who?” Bruce managed to ask.

“Jason.” There. He had said it. 

“You’re wrong,” Bruce instantly bit out, face closing off.

“I’m not. I talked to him,” he paused, unsure as to what he should say, “he’s older but it was definitely him.”

“No! It wasn’t!” Bruce bellowed and then, with enough pain for it to feel suffocating even to Dick, he snapped “Jason is dead!” The second, he said his name, he buried his head in his hands, shoulders pulled up.

“He came back, B…” Dick whispered, stepping closer, “he’s alive.”

“That can’ be true,” Tim intercepted, “you said, you saw his body.”

“I did,” Bruce’ voice came out muffled, but the words were clear.

“Did you know?” Dick couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t get the scar out of his head, “what he did to him?”

“Yes.”

“And you never told me?”

“There was no reason to.”

“What about that I deserve to know? Isn’t that reason enough?” He forced himself to stop right there but only because it wasn’t the point he was trying to make.

“He still has the scar on his cheek,” Dick said and watched Bruce tense, “because it is him, okay? It’s him. I promise.”

“And he was just wandering the streets of Gotham or how did you run into him?” Tim still had that biting tone going on but underneath, Dick heard his sense of curiosity lurking.

“No. I- I saw him on a roof top,” he didn’t know how to say the next bit without causing an outrage, “fighting another guy.”

“Just like that?”

“No. He had-” Dick scolded himself for not getting on with it, “he had his helmet on.”

“Since when does Todd wear a helmet?” Damian asked, sounding appalled at the concept. Dick almost laughed.

“It was a red helmet,” he let that final piece of information slip, not the least bit surprised when Bruce was suddenly up on his feet and glaring.

“Red Hood?” he snarled, “are you telling me that Jason is- that _he_ is Red Hood?” 

“Yes.”

“Why would he choose to become an outlaw after wearing the Robin mantle?” Damian asked when Bruce remained frozen. Dick knew, it had to be difficult to hear that, not only was your son back from the dead, but that he had also forsaken Bruce’ most important rule. He turned to Damian, when his words finally sank in.

“I think that’s why became Red Hood, you know? Because he couldn’t be Robin anymore.” Only when he finished his statement did he realis, how much it made sense. Bruce, though, shrugged off his stupor and exploded once more.

“I don’t care! Red Hood is an outlaw! He is dangerous!”

“Red Hood is _Jason_!” Dick countered, slowly getting angrier too, “and you’re going to have to accept that!” 

“Why?” Bruce snapped, looking like the very idea repelled him. 

“Because you replaced him!” He shouldn’t have said that. He really shouldn’t have. But it was the truth. It was also most probably the reason, Jason had felt like they didn’t care. Because he had likely taken a long look at Bruce and Tim and Damian and had decided that they didn’t want him back. And Dick fit in too. He had been a brother to both of them, trying to compensate for his neglect of Jason. Although, his reasons for wanting nothing to do with Jason had been a bit more complex.

“That is not fair! I had no choice-” Bruce crossed his arms, reminding Dick of a child who hadn’t gotten his way. Still, he saw the pain underneath that defensive gesture, the grief still so damn near to the surface that even saying Jason’s name out loud, hurt.

“I know, okay? I’m not accusing you of something, I’m just saying that I understand why he came up with something else.”

“He kills people!” Yeah, Dick was aware. And he didn’t particularly like it. Nor did he understand how Jason, after having received the very same training Dick had, could condone killing. But that was for a later discussion. His priority was to get Jason back for good. Everything else could be dealt with later on.

“You ever wonder why?” Tim interrupted both of them. He didn’t look up from where he was inspecting his nails but Dick could tell he was paying close attention to the conversation. And he certainly had an opinion on it. 

“What?”

“Why Red Hood kills people?”

“No.” Because to Bruce, his reasons didn’t matter. Killing was killing and not to condone under any circumstances. 

“Well, you should,” Tim snapped before continuing in a calmer voice, “because the people he kills are the ones who got away scot-free. The ones who go in and out of Arkham like it’s nothing. He doesn’t kill for sport.”

“What are you saying?”

“That he upholds justice in his own way. Probably because _he_ didn’t get justice when he was killed.”

“I put him away,” Bruce snapped, “I locked him away in Arkham for a long time. You know that.”

“But he didn’t die in there, did he? He was still alive when Jason came back.”

“So?” 

“So, he knows, the man who killed him got off with a slap to the wrist and he decides that no one will get the chance to do what has been done to him.”

“You sound like you admire him, Drake,” Damian muttered, but Dick noticed that it didn’t hold malice. Like Damian, begrudgingly conceded, Tim had a point.

“I don’t,” Tim corrected, “but I understand why he’s doing what he’s doing.”

“Then explain it to me,” Bruce said, “explain to me how he could turn into that.”

Dick flinched at hearing Bruce refer to Jason as that but he didn’t protest, didn’t speak up. He was too curious to hear Tim’s answer.

“If someone is locked into prison after attempting to murder you and the system lets them go, it’s like handing them a bullet because they missed you the first time.”

“That’s how you see it?”

“That’s how he sees it,” Tim said decidedly. He leant back, finally making eye contact, “I can’t blame him for that.”

“I don’t- I’m not blaming him.”

“Sure sounded like it to me,” Tim shrugged, “you seem to care more about who he became than that he’s alive.”

“Is he?” He turned to Dick, eyes wide and filled with mixed emotions. Dick could name all of them, like they were in a line-up and just waiting to be picked out. Hope. Anger. Fear.

“Yes,” Dick promised and watched Bruce break down.

* * *

The flat felt suddenly empty. Dick had left, not an hour ago and his scent still hung in the air. Jason contemplated opening a window, but the night was cold and he didn’t care for a breeze in his living room. In his mind, his thoughts were playing hide and seek with his memories. He couldn’t quite believe Dick when he said, he cared for Jason. He also couldn’t believe Dick to be that good of an actor.

That faint.

Well, it had been a bit more convincing than Jason would have liked. All this time, he had been so sure, they all didn’t give a damn but Dick’s reaction to seeing him… It had been a bit unnerving. And their talk. Dick had sounded so sincere.

If it weren’t for that stupidly hopeful look, Jason would have blown up his safehouse right then and there. He had vowed, after coming back, never to touch anything bat ever again. It just didn’t work out for him. But Dick had always been able to make him do things, he knew, he shouldn’t do. Fall for Dick, just to name one example. He highly doubted, Dick was aware of his unfortunate crush and it would stay that way if he had any say in it.

After what he had gone through, he had hoped, his feelings towards the blue bird had changed but one look at those eyes and he had known, that was not the case.

_Why would it?  
_

_Why would he ever have it easy?_

He could still run. His backpack and a duffel were on his bed, packed so that he could leave at any time. His fingers twitched towards it many times before he sank down on the bed. Bats were bad news, he knew that. How many times had they disappointed him? Showed him, they didn’t give a fuck about him?

And now, Dick had come waltzing back into his life, telling him the opposite. He didn’t know how to react to that, what to make of it. Something in him longed for the chance to talk to Dick again, maybe even talk to Bruce. But the other part, the one that was this lonely little boy who had been tortured and killed while waiting for a saviour that hadn’t come, that part couldn’t forgive so easily.

In the end, he listened to that part. Because he hadn’t before and it had gotten him killed. He wasn’t about to make that mistake a second time.

With a last look at his flat, he flung himself out of the window just before the timer went off and his safehouse went up in flames.


	2. Pull me in...

> _If I disappear, will you look for me?_

Four days went by and Dick slowly started to worry. He would have thought, Jason would have called by now and yet, his phone remained silent, the doorbell didn’t ring. In his mind, he came up with scenarios where Jason was on the job or busy and that was why he didn’t show. All of them fell flat when Tim came into his room, visibly distraught and told him “I had a run in with Red- with Jason today.”

Dick’s world came crashing down when he realised what that meant. Jason didn’t _want_ to talk to him. A familiar ache spread through his chest and into his stomach like freefalling from a cliff but without the exhilarating adrenaline rush.

“Did- did you talk?”

“Yeah, actually…” Tim paused, looked like he considered leaving it at that but Dick urged him to go on. Probably the penchant for self-punishment, Bruce had involuntarily instilled in them.

“He- he was a bit surprised to see me, I think.”

“Why?”

“I… might have been in his part of the city.”

Again, Dick asked “why”. It wasn’t like Tim to take such a big detour. Especially not into Jason’s territory. That could end rather badly, a fact, all the bats were painfully aware.

“Some business that needed taken care of.”

Dick didn’t push, trusting Tim that he had “taken care” of it. Also, his mind was currently elsewhere.

“I practically ran into him in an alleyway.”

“And?”

“He wasn’t- look, I’m not saying this to- to hurt you or something but I think-” he heaved a sigh, pinched the bridge of his nose, “I think he needs time.”

Dick nodded like he understood when everything in him screamed that Tim was wrong. Jason didn’t need more time. He just didn’t want to talk to Dick. And Dick couldn’t blame him. If only it wasn’t so painful. He supposed, it would have been easier if he hadn’t known Jason was alive. Now, he felt like someone had dangled a carrot in front of him and was now taking it away.

Sure, Jason was alive – and Dick would forever be grateful to whoever had granted him this miracle – but he still couldn’t talk to Jason. And maybe he was selfish for wanting it so desperately, maybe, he didn’t deserve having Jason close, but _God_ did he want it.

_Still._

“It doesn’t mean never, you know?” Tim tried again, probably sensing Dick’s falling mood, “I just- I’d imagine he can’t cope with what you told him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, he believed we didn’t care and now, he has to adjust and re-asses every interaction from the last year. How would that make you feel?”

“Confused.”

“There you have it. So just- stay clear for a while and let him come to terms with this okay?”

“How- how are you so in tune with what he thinks? You never met him before.”

“I’m not. It’s just that I know what you can be like and- considering how you feel about him, I think, he doesn’t know which was is up anymore. It would be confusing to come back, thinking you don’t like him and then realising that you do,” he looked at Dick like he wanted to scan him to figure out whether or not to say what he was about to say. Dick braced himself.

“Maybe a bit too much…”

“ _How_ do you know that?”

Tim shrugged, “it’s fairly obvious when you talk about him, how defensive you get. Even when it’s Bruce.”

“Sometimes you’re scary, Tim…”

“I know.”

And he looked indecently proud about it too.

* * *

Uncharacteristic as it was, Jason hadn’t shot the red bird on sight. He could have. Not easily and probably not effectively, but he could have. And he refrained. He just wanted to reiterate that he could have and didn’t and that had to count for something, alright? 

Something about the bird’s manner seemed off, less sure of himself, less in control. Frantic almost. He was pacing in an alley, throwing curses left and right with two names mixed in Jason knew all too well.

Bruce and Damian.

Of course, who else would manage to rile him up to wander into Hood’s territory seemingly without noticing. Had it been anyone else, Jason would have kicked him right back out. But the demeanour, the cursing, the overall air of frustration woke up a memory Jason had thought to be deep in slumber.

“What’s crawled up your ass and died, replacement?” he yelled while flinging himself down the fire exit he had been crouching on. To the bird’s credit, he didn’t even flinch.

“A bit far off your usual turf, aren’t you?”

“It’s not your city.” Oh, that snarl was something to behold. Seething even. Yet, Jason wasn’t worried. The kid wasn’t angry with _him_ , he just needed a catalyst.

“Ain’t yours either,” he remarked, casually leaning against a corner of the alley.

“I suppose not,” the red bird said and nearly spat out, “it’s _his_.”

“Still my territory,” Jason pointed out, a bit more bite in his tone than before. He didn’t particularly like the reminder that Gotham ultimately belonged to Bruce and Bruce only.

“Didn’t look where I was going.”

“Figures.”

“Yeah? Does it? Because you know me so well!”

“Chill your horses,” Jason held up his hands to show he meant no harm, yet, “’m not here to get on your case.”

“Then what do you want? What are you here for?” The unspoken “if not to shoot me” hung in the air between them and Jason didn’t deny it. Why should he? He had no intention on shooting the kid, but he wasn’t about to show his hand either. Had to keep up his tough image around those damned bats. Otherwise, they would pull another stunt on him like B had back then-

“Heard you cursing from up there,” he said instead of letting his past overwhelm him, “I’m curious.”

“I needed some fresh air.”

Jason was about to say “in my territory” but Tim didn’t even let him breathe before diving head first into a rant. The parts Jason actively listened to, painted the picture quite well. Jason had been there, done that. And he didn’t pity the kid for having to put up with Bruce’ bullshit.

“Believe me, placers, I know,” he said once Tim had stopped. And wasn’t that a strange situation. Red Hood listening to his replacement bitch about how his old mentor – father figure – pushed him.

“Do you?” Jason considered that Tim could have been surprised, incredulous even, but his voice hadn’t changed intonation and his face remained impassive. That wasn’t surprise, he realised, not even doubt. This was exhaustion mixed with relief. His feelings towards the kid changed.

“Sure do. I was the first replacement, remember?” he shrugged like the memory still tasted bitter on his tongue, “What do you think it’s like trying to fit in Goldie’s shoes?”

Tim’s expression – or at least the rise of his brows, since Jason couldn’t see his eyes – agreed.

“Sometimes, I want to just pack my stuff leave, you know?” the bird muttered, sounding resigned and angry at the same time, “maybe even just for one night. And I know, it’s like giving up but he drives me up the walls with his constant comparisons.”

“Who does he compare you to? The demon spawn or the golden boy?” Neither would be good. If B could just stop comparing them in general… Jason had to remind himself that he didn’t care and that it had nothing to do with him.

“ _You_ ,” Tim said, looking straight at Jason like he could hear his heart flip, “he tried comparing me to Dami once but that stopped the day I put him flat on the mat in training.”

“Good for you,” Jason acknowledged, a smile tugging at his lips. He meant it. If Tim had bested Damian, it certainly earned him a few points in Jason’s books. That kid had an ego on him a mile wide and Tim had apparently put a damper on that. It was certainly an admirable quality. Concentrating on that also helped him not to focus on the other part of Tim’s statement. He couldn’t afford to think about his relationship with Bruce now. Or ever.

_Probably ever._

“Not according to Bruce,” the kid spat, fists balling “apparently, that kick could’ve been higher, my lunge faster.”

“So, what?” Bruce always pushed at boundaries he had no business pushing at. That wasn’t news and the kid knew that.

“I don’t have your build! How am I supposed to do what you did?” Now, Jason couldn’t ignore that. What he could do was force down any emotions threatening to bubble up. Effectively, he pushed down on it, clinging to Tim’s problem to keep his mind from slipping.

“I doubt he wants you to,” he said offhandedly.

“Why? Because you’re such a bad guy now?”

“No.” Because Jason had always disappointed him. Not that he was about to tell Tim that. He had no business knowing how Jason had failed to be who he should have become.

“I just want him to lay off of me. Why can’t he concentrate on the brat? He’s never that hard on him like he is on me.”

Because maybe, Jason suspected, Bruce worried about the kid because he was so much smaller, so much lighter than the rest of them. Even Dick, lithe as he was, could throw his weight around if he needed to. And Damian was a trained assassin for crying out loud.

Tim, on the other hand, had to rely on hitting first and hitting hard. Jason could see how that would make a parental figure uneasy. Although, maybe Bruce should have thought about that before taking on Robins who had barely surpassed the tender age of 12.

He didn’t doubt, the kid could take all of them out if he set his mind to it. Because that’s where his true strength lay. Jason had never met anyone with a mind this sharp. Tim could probably go head to head with Eddie if he wanted to. Good thing then, that he was on this side of the law. Not that Jason had any right to judge if he were to change sides.

“Look, I’m the last person to say this,” really, he was, nevertheless, there was an issue and he could resolve it, so he would try. Maybe it would do him some good, ease the pit green edges around his soul a little.

“But hear me out.” Tim moved his head as a nonverbal _go on._

“Half of the time, Bruce is a fucking moron and an emotionally constipated one at that. If he’s being tough on you, it’s because he can’t cope with one thing or another. Has got nothing to do with you. And the other half, he’s worried sick because one mistake in this kind of job can get you-” Yeah, he had to stop right there or this would end really ugly.

“You don’t know-” Tim accused and Jason had had it. Like he didn’t know. Like he wasn’t literally the one big fucking failure of this goddamn pseudo family. Like he hadn’t paid for that kind of mistake with his life.

“What?” he spat, “how fuckin’ mean he is when he gets goin’? Don’t you think I’ve heard it too? Those snide little comments about how Dickie would’ve been better, faster, less distracted, less violent? Believe me, babybird, I’ve had my fill and then some.”

“I can’t just go back and act like it never happened.”

“’m not tellin’ you to.”

“Then what exactly _are_ you telling me?”

“Quit it with the sarcasm, it doesn’t suit you,” he paused, mulled it over, “make your point,” he settled on.

“Make my point how?”

“How would I know?”

Tim shrugged, apparently out of words. Jason lasted about five second before the silence became unbearable and he broke.

“Jesus kid, just talk to him,” he shoved off the wall, deciding he had done his good deed for the day, “Dickie said you’re good with words. I suggest you use ‘em.”

With that, he shot his grapple and dramatically exited both alleyway and conversation.

* * *

Dick should have stayed home. Especially, after promising both Tim and Bruce to stay home. But the files had been open and he left unattended with his heartbreak and bad memories. For weeks a group of fanatics were terrorising Gotham and this evening, Damian had had a break-through. Tim and Bruce had followed to God knew where – not like they had told Dick. Meanwhile, Dick was confined to the couch and told not stay.

Which he couldn’t.

Not when he had just figured out that there was a warehouse the others had ignored up to this point. Usually, he would have been the one to argue not to follow up on a lead alone but there was no one here apart from him. If he didn’t check it out, the gang could go free. And Dick wasn’t about to let that happen. Not after they had taken hostages twice to torture them for fun.

So, instead of doing what he should have done, he went out on his own to investigate. That the file placed his targets right in Jason’s territory was of no consequence. Jason was probably busy anyway.

He realised his mistake a bit too late, probably because he was itching for a win, restless and unfocussed. So when he walked into the warehouse, completely unaware that he wasn’t alone, a bullet brazed his shoulder.

* * *

Once more, business bit him in the ass. He had just been about to go home and call it a night when the replacement had hacked his helmet. Although, God knew how he did that. Jason was almost impressed. Almost. Because he still didn’t like how easily Bruce had replaced him, no matter how competent the kid might be. That was beside the point, however. See, Jason was minding his own business, walking briskly towards his bike when he suddenly heard a shot nearby. He halted in his steps, turned.

How likely was it that someone needed help? Very.

How pissed off was his that this disturbed his relatively successful night? Also very.

This was Gotham, granted, but it was also his territory. Nobody opened fire in his territory without him having a say in it first. Therefore, and because he really didn’t have another choice, he walked around the building until he was met with a large wall of glass windows.

 _Excellent_.

Heaving himself up on a ledge, he managed to get a good view of the place. It was an old factory, with loose cords dangling from the ceiling. About twelve men stood in a circle around someone who was on the ground and apparently bleeding heavily.

Poor bastard, Jason thought. This looked like an execution. Now, Jason would have let them be – they probably had good reason and he didn’t want to involve himself in a fight he literally needed shit ton of luck to win – but that was the precise moment when he recognised the blue stripes on the guy’s arms.

Nightwing.

Fucking fuck.

Of course.

 _Of course_ , it had to be Dick. Of all the goddamn people in the world, it just had to be Dick. Jason remained where he was for a good thirty seconds, simply observing. That flew right out of the window – despite him being outside of said window – when those bastards moved in on Dick like a pack of savage beats.

The world stopped, then sped up when one of the men delivered a nasty kick to Dick’s rib cage. He fell into motion without know why and climbed up the ledge until he could reach the roof. Attack from above was always better than to come at them on even ground.

With a breath to calm himself, he dropped, feet protesting at the landing. He took two of the guys down with him, shooting at everyone who moved in his sight. As far as he could see, Dick was still on his knees, bleeding heavily from a wound in his chest. Two guys sprinted at him, one jumping up like they were in action movie. Jason rolled to the side and watched them crash into each other. With an elbow to the face, he knocked out another one. While running, he caught a glimpse of Dick’s face.

The man looked positively shell-shocked.

Jason reached him, half slithering, half running, guns raised. He fired a shot at one guy ducking behind a container and when that didn’t work he aimed at his kneecaps and heard them shatter when the bullet hit its target.

The shout of “fuck” rang like music in his ears. He came to a halt beside Dick, careful to shield him with his body in case another one of those bastards was lurking here somewhere.

“Stay awake, Dickie, don’t you give in now.” Slowly, he turned, scanning the room for someone he had missed. A shot passed dangerously close by his ear and he ducked, pushing Dick out of the way with him.

“What-” Dick gurgled, leant forward, “what’re you doin’ here?”

“Savin’ your ass!” He pressed out between clenched teeth, firing at the idiot who had dared take a shot at him.

“Jay-” the way Dick’s voice caught around his name was a sign to worry. Jason crouched down, still keeping his guard up and let himself fully look at Dick. What he saw made his stomach clench in fear. Dick pressed a hand against his chest but it didn’t do much good. Blood soaked the fabric of his suit and the part of Dick’s skin Jason could see was too pale.

“Hold on, Dickie, I’ll get you out of here…” he murmured while contemplating the best way to pick Dick up without disrupting him too much.

“Hurts…” Jason noticed how Dick’s fist closed and opened, likely with the pain.

“I know,” he said, scooping Dick up in his arms, “just stay with, me alright? I promise, I’ll get you somewhere safe.”

Dick asked an astounded “why?” which Jason didn’t understand. Was he not supposed to help? Or did Dick think, he would leave him here? Either way, Jason didn’t like the implication. He didn’t have time to voice his discontent, busy with making sure, Dick didn’t die on him. That would certainly ruin his night.

“If you pass out now, I swear to God, Goldie, I’ll be really unpleasant,” he threatened and watched Dick fight his way back to consciousness. That he still didn’t look at Jason was of no consequence.

“Bike,” Dick ground out while his hands clenched around the material of Jason’s jacket. Jason needed a moment to interpret what Dick was saying, because he sure as hell must have heard wrong. Dick wasn’t seriously suggesting to use his bike in the condition he was in.

“Nope, can do, Big Bird,” he shrugged so that Dick hung halfway over his shoulder and power walked to his own bike. It would be an unpleasant ride, to keep Dick plastered against his back while driving.

“Hold on,” he said and put Dick’s arms around his middle and felt relieved when Dick actually squeezed once, probably to signal, he could manage.

The drive gave Jason plenty of time for his anxiety level to rise. Dick’s grip on him loosened multiple times and he could feel the wet patch forming against his back from Dick’s blood. He needed medical attention asap. Since Jason was physically unable to come within fifteen feet of the manor ­– or he would probably keel over – that really only left his new safehouse to patch up Dickie. He drove with only that single thought and prayed that Dick would be too out of it to ask questions.

_Like, why Jason hadn’t called._

He didn’t want to answer that. What he also didn’t want to do was reflect on why precisely he had made it his mission to save Dick. Or why even the idea of Dick bleeding out seriously irritated his gag reflex.

“Almost there,” he pressed out, aware that Dick couldn’t hear him against the noise of the traffic. Five minutes later, he pulled up at his new building and instantly dismounted. Ignoring Dick’s pained grunt, he pulled Dick off the bike and carried him towards the door.

It took some manoeuvring to get Dick onto the couch and assess the damage properly. Dick seemed to fade in and out of consciousness which wasn’t helping matters.

“Easy now, Dickie,” he muttered while removing the upper part of Dick’s suit. It was a fickle thing to get open, Jason knew.

“How’s that feel?” He moved Dick’s shoulder to see if the joint still worked properly. Dick clenched his teeth but Jason didn’t meet any resistance or obstructions so it should be fine. A little bruised maybe.

“Need something to drink?” he offered, reaching over to hand Dick a bottle of water he kept by his nightstand.

“Why’d you go in there alone?” He didn’t really look at Dick’s face, too focussed on cleaning away all the blood. He would have to change the sheets after this.

“You’re smarter than that Dickiebird,” God Dick looked like a filet steak and not in the good way, “you know better…”

Dick managed a broken “sorry” before sinking back down.

After washing the flesh wound left by bullet, Jason focussed on the bruises but couldn’t find anything to worry about. Well, really worry anyway. Because having Dick injured, bleeding and on his couch didn’t make Jason feel particularly at peace. He was cleaning up when Dick sat up, a lot steadier than should have been possible. Then again, the expression on his face reminded Jason of an adrenaline rush, so he didn’t pay it much attention. That was until Dick pushed away from him, eyes downcast.

Dick cleared his throat, apparently wanting to say something. Jason prepared himself for a stupid comment but what he got was much worse.

“You said, you’d come to me.” He could barely take how small Dick sounded, “you promised…”

There was a distinct lack of accusation Jason didn’t know how to handle. He had had his reasons for not showing up but Dick’s behaviour upon his arrival made him think, he had made a colossal mistake.

Jason had been convinced, Dick wouldn’t mind that much if their paths never crossed again. He had wanted to prove it to himself that the bats didn’t care, that this had been a one-time fancy for Dick, nothing serious. And yet, Dick wouldn’t meet his eyes like he wasn’t sure, Jason wanted him to look.

“I showed up now, didn’t I?” he tried to deflect, fully aware that Dick meant something else entirely. It was just so much easier to go into the defence than tell Dick why he had made himself scarce.

But Dick didn’t protest, simply kept his gaze averted and mumbled a resigned “I guess…”

Once more, silence spread in the room with Jason searching for some kind of distraction. The tension felt too heavy for Jason to bear and he longed for an exit strategy.

“Look-” he started but Dick held up hand to stop him instantly.

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” he said, “thanks for saving me.” With that, he stood, still a bit wobbly on his feet and walked towards the door. Jason noticed how he curled in on himself.

“Wait-” he couldn’t leave things like that, could he? Not when Dick looked so broken up.

“I should go,” Dick still wouldn’t meet his eyes. A tiny little part of Jason broke when he saw that. He didn’t remember a time when Dick had been like this. He always been this ball of sunshine and now it seemed like Jason had taken his joy and had flung it out of the window before crushing it under his boot.

“But-” He tried again to intervene, to explain without explaining that he just couldn’t deal with this shift in perspective. He had been so used to thinking all the worst things about the bats – and Dick in particular – and now he was forced to reconsider. And old habits were hard to break.

“It’s fine, Jay- Jason,” he instantly corrected, “it’s okay. I get it. You don’t want anything to with us.”

“That’s not-”

“Yes, that’s exactly what it was,” he sighed, wiped his face with a hand that was trembling, “I’m not that stupid, okay? I get it. You thought it through and decided that you don’t want us in your life and that’s okay. I’m not- I’ll just get out of your hair.”

“No- Dick-” Jason stopped mid-sentence because Dick was right and he didn’t want to lie to him.

“I just-” Dick turned back around, brow furrowed, “I just wanted to talk to you again, I guess…” A sadness lingered around him, like a veil of ink and Jason didn’t know what to do.

“If you ever feel like you want to give me a second chance,” his smiled didn’t reach his eyes, didn’t even feel close to what Jason knew of Dick’s smiles. They were always so beautiful but this, this _hurt_.

“You know where to find me.” He opened the door, stepped outside. Jason’s feet refused to move despite a part of him wanting to follow Dick, pull him back inside. He couldn’t give in to those urges, not with the way his emotions were all mixed up.

“Thanks again,” Dick’s voice carried through his flat, sadder than Jason had ever heard it, “I hope, I’ll see you again, Jason, but if not-” he took a breath that sounded wrong, “if not, I want you to know that I understand and that I wish you all the best, okay?”

Without his permission, his head nodded, once, twice. He felt like being pulled in two directions. Wanting to shove Dick out and never think of him again and wanting to keep him here and make him stay. Forever, probably.

Unable to do either, he remained where he was and watched Dick leave.

* * *

Back at the manor, after getting checked out and properly patched up, he fell onto his bed, mind whirling. Why had Jason saved him? He just couldn’t get it into his head. Either Jason didn’t care about him which would make that saving thing really strange, or he did and his disappearing act had another reason. The confusion had turned into hurt, back to confusion and then to disappointment when he realised, it was likely the second option that had made Jason stay away.

Dick had heeded Tim’s advice and had walked out despite every fibre in his body telling him otherwise. It had been beyond difficult to say those words, when all he had wanted to do was pull Jason in for a hug and never let go. But he had seen how uncomfortable Jason was with him there, how his eyes had flickered towards the window twice. Needing no more prove that Tim was right, the only option left was to let Jason go.

He couldn’t impose himself on Jason, didn’t want him fishing for an excuse to get rid of Dick.

So, he resigned himself to waiting and hoping things would turn out okay, that he would get another chance.

* * *

His body didn’t fit his mind, it was too small. That was his first clue that something was amiss. He hadn’t felt small for a long time and yet, if he stood on his toes, he couldn’t reach the top shelf.

“Jaybird? Did you want something sweet after dinner?”

He needed too long to place the voice coming from his kitchen. Which, now that he thought it through, wasn’t his kitchen. It was the kitchen in the manor. And the voice – the voice was Dick’s. Younger though, definitely.

Which meant- yep, this was _before_.

“Jay? Are you alright?” Followed by the echo of his voice, Dick himself rounded a corner, dressed in his early Discowing suit and chipper as ever. Not to mention, Jason nearly had an aneurism at the mixture of cleavage and tightness of that nuisance which was currently on display.

“Sweet?” Dick asked, now sporting an obvious grin. Jason dearly hoped, he didn’t know any of the thoughts which had just crossed Jason’s mind. None of them were decent or appropriate.

“Huh?”

“If you want something sweet,” Dick repeated, leaning close, “after dinner, I mean.” Jason couldn’t be sure, but he constantly felt like Dick used innuendos to rile him up. Maybe, he wanted to test Jason, or this was some kind of joke. Either way, Jason didn’t like it. Yet, he couldn’t stomp away, not with Dick’s attention all on him. He had always been a sucker for that and Dick so rarely even looked at him. Now that he did, Jason couldn’t walk out. Truth be told, he didn’t really want to.

“No,” he finally managed to answer, accompanying it with a non-committal shrug.

“Too bad,” Dick’s smile was a little too sharp, but then again, Jason often imagined things.

“You know, Jay, I’ve been wondering…”

Back away, a voice in Jason’s head suddenly blared. This interaction felt off, like Jason as supposed to be in on it and wasn’t.

“What-” he ground out, clearing his throat when it caught mid-word, “what’re you wonderin’ about?”

“Training,” Dick said and made it sound much lewder than it should have. Meanwhile, Jason fought against the headache threatening to form. He couldn’t deal with this conversation. Not when whatever Dick said had five more layers of meaning than Jason could unravel.

“Training?” he croaked and tried desperately not to think about the last time Dick had done his stretching routing in front of him. Needless to say, he didn’t succeed.

“Hm, did I ever tell you, how pretty you look with that blush?”

No. And Jason certainly didn’t blush harder upon hearing him say so.

_Shut up!  
_

He shook his head a bit too abruptly but Dick didn’t comment. With a widening smile, he reached for Jason’s head. Jason almost ducked away before he realised, Dick only twirled a strand of hair around his finger.

“Well, I think, it suits you,” he said. The finger in his hair scraped his scalp in the most goose bump-erupting fashion. Jason bit his lip determined not to let his body give him away.

“You’ve got something,” with his free hand, Dick gestured towards Jason’s face, “right here.”

That was precisely when he felt the trickle of blood drip from his nose. The metallic taste coated his lips before he could move to wipe it away.

“Wait,” Dick stopped him, held his hand in place with a grip too tight to be considered normal, “let me.”

He felt himself nod, despite having no clue why. Before he could appropriately process what was about to happen, or prepare himself for the impact this particular action would have, Dick had already leaned in so close, his breath tingled on Jason’s skin. It was swiftly followed by a press of lips against his and a tongue tracing the seam of his mouth. Jason gasped, shuddered involuntarily when he tasted his own blood on Dick’s lips.

“ _Jaybird_ ,” Dick cooed while he kept the grip on Jason’s hair iron. Jason felt a flush of heat wash over him when Dick called him that in such a dark voice.

“The things, I could do to you.” The sentence itself didn’t fully register as odd. But the words slowly caught up with him and he tried to twist away. Dick didn’t let go, pulled him in harder.

Only that it wasn’t Dick anymore.

“You do look quite alluring, drenched in blood, little bird.”

Bile rose in Jason’s throat, he pushed to get away.

“Tsts, still so pointlessly violent,” his head was wrenched back so hard, his neck screamed at him in protest.

“Maybe you need a reminder of what happens when you misbehave, little Robin, huh?” Jason didn’t have the chance to stop it. He could barely shield his head before pain exploded against his temple. His knees gave out. He fell to the ground, barely propped up by one arm.

“No,” he hated hearing himself beg, voice so small, but the pain didn’t ease.

“No? Oh, but it’s so much fun.” Another hit, this one to his kneecaps. He could hear them shatter and cried out.

“Please,” his mouth filled with blood after a punch to his stomach. With his intact hand, he tried to lessen the next blow. His arm was twisted away until his shoulder popped out of place.

Another hit and another. He didn’t know how many, stopped counting when he couldn’t feel his legs anymore.

The hope, of a dark-cladded figured would swoop in and come to his aid, he had abandoned long ago. Only when his eyelids closed did it sink in with sickening finality.

He was alone.

No one was coming for him.

Not Dick.

Not Bruce.

_No one._

* * *

The first thing, he noticed was the cold sweat covering his face and chest. He wiped it away with his shirt as best as he could, despite it clinging to him. With a trembling arm, he inspected twice to make sure, it wasn’t broken and standing out horribly, he managed to sit up. His stomach still turned but at least the vertigo stopped. The other hand, he pressed against his chest to slow his breathing. At the rate his heart was beating, he would be unconscious within a minute.

 _Dream_ , he reminded himself forcefully _, it was just a dream._

Only, dreams usually had either one or the other but never both.

Joker _or_ Dick.

He had always counted on that _or_ , unable to cope with having both of them appear at the same time. His worst nightmares, so different yet so alike in the way they scared him. At least, he knew, in real life, Dick would never come close to kissing him. That helped him to stay rooted in reality and differentiate between dream interaction and memory. Sure, Dick had always come indecently close but that was just Dick’s nature. He liked touching people and since Jason abhorred it, Dick had made it his personal mission to test the boundaries. Probably to prove to himself that Jason would let him.

A sharp sting in his arm made him realise, he had started scratching at his arm again. _Great_. And now, he needed to clean up.

_Thanks a lot, Dickhead._

Upon standing, his knees wobbled and he had to hold onto the bed to find his balance. He decided, when bent over his sink and staring at himself in the mirror with the uttermost disgust at the image which met him, to make the call.

The phone rang twice before a tired voice greeted him and he blurted out his name.

_“Dick?”_

* * *

“Jason?” Dick had been fast asleep, although having quite the nightmare, when his phone had woken him up. He scrambled to sit, rubbing his eyes.

“Hey,” Dick’s breath got stuck somewhere in his vocal cord because of Jason’s barely audible greeting. It came as a total shock to hear from him after their last conversation.

“I woke you up,” and now guilt became prominent in his voice, self-loathing too maybe. Which, there was no reason for.

“What’s wrong?” He had a feeling Jason wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t important.

“Nothin’, just wanted to call…”

“Don’t lie to me,” Dick snapped, old habits being hard to break. He regretted it in an instant and despite that, did not take it back. He had always hated when Jason had lied to him and he wouldn’t make an exception now.

“Thought we could talk…” Not a lie, Dick mused, not the whole truth either.

“Now?”

“If you’re busy-” Jason left that sentence unfinished, like he had a certain idea of what Dick was supposedly busy with. It made anger flare up in Dick’s chest. Sure, it was three in the morning and back when Jason had been a teenager, he had had people over at that time but things had changed. For one, he didn’t really like hooking up with strangers anymore. Meaningless sex just didn’t do it for him.

Not that Jason needed to know that.

So, Dick swallowed a smart remark and simply said “’m not.”

“Can you-” Even through the phone, Dick could hear Jason’s battle with himself. Dick remembered, how Jason had always been hesitant to ask for things he wanted and even more hesitant with things he needed. And Dick strongly suspected, this fell into the latter category.

“Can you come over?”

_Yes. Of course._

The answer to that would always be yes if Jason was the one asking.

“Where are you?”

“Where I brought you when you were injured.”

“Okay,” he almost fell over in his haste to stand because his leg got tangled in the sheet, “I’ll bet there in twenty.”

“’kay,” Jason mumbled, sounding strange.

* * *

He arrived 19 minutes after hanging up, having sped along the way just to see Jason faster.

“Hey,” Jason greeted him in the doorframe, hair tussled and form illuminated by the light coming from his apartment. Dick walked in, curiosity already spiking. He couldn’t help it, always having been the optimist.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t come to you,” Jason suddenly blurted, a blush seeping into his cheeks. Dick didn’t quite know what to do with that, so he waited.

“I didn’t believe you.”

“I know.” He curled in on himself at being reminded. If only he could shield himself from the onslaught of emotions that felt like knives in his side.

That was until Jason said “I do now.”

Despite nearly bursting at the seams with relief, Dick said nothing. He had a feeling, Jason wasn’t quite finished.

“But I still- I still needed time to get this in my head, you know?”

“Then why’d you save me?” The question had bothered him ever since because it was so unlike Jason to do something he wasn’t convinced of.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because it would have been easier. If you really didn’t want me in your life, you could have just walked away.”

“You really think, I’d do that to you Dickiebird?” And now, he sounded disappointed, like Dick had personally offended him. Even though, Dick didn’t understand why.

“I would have understood.” He meant it. It wasn’t Jason’s fault, Dick had been careless and stupid. He didn’t expect Jason to come in and save the day.

“Don’t mean it’s right.” No. Probably not. But he hadn’t been sure, Jason thought him worth saving. 

“I’m glad, you did,” he said, putting as much emotion in his voice as he could without giving himself away.

“Don’t mention it.”

They fell into silence once again, both staring at a point above the other’s head. Dick didn’t know what to do with himself, why Jason suddenly wanted him here but he didn’t want to push his luck.

“It’s-” Jason started then hesitated, “it’s hard for me sometimes, you know?”

“What?” There was a plethora of things Jason could be referring to. None of which Dick had any point of reference.

“To know for sure what’s real and what’s not.”

“Okay,” he said even though it wasn’t. But it also wasn’t his place to comment on the abnormality of it.

“When you told me- when you said, you cared, I wanted to believe you but I couldn’t.” Dick didn’t particularly care for the reminder, even though, he could understand Jason’s reasons.

“What made you change your mind?”

“You,” Jason said simply like it didn’t make Dick’s heart beat faster. 

“Me?” He prayed Jason wouldn’t pick up on the change in his demeanour.

“Yeah, when- when you told me, it’d be okay if I never talked to you again. When you walked out, I knew…”

“I’m glad, you do… believe me, I mean.”

“Me too.” And he looked it, looked like he finally had something he could believe.

“What about the others?” He dared ask, hoping to convey, he was trying to help and not accusing.

“What about them?”

“Do you-”

“If you’re about to ask about B, I suggest you stop right there.” Jason was right. He shouldn’t talk about that. He knew they had parted on rather bad terms, considering it was Bruce’ fault Jason

had been with the Joker in the first place.

“He replaced me, Dickie…”

“He replaced me too. With you, remember?”

“Yeah,” this time, it was accompanied by a chuckle, like they were sharing a fond memory.

“I can’t just go in there and talk to him after what happened.”

“Even though, he didn’t know you were back?”

“You think I should, don’t you, Dickie?” Jason smirked, “you were always a sucker for cheesy shit.”

Dick decided to ignore that and said “I think it would help.”

“Talking to him?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you two had a relationship, like it or not and after- it became unfinished business.” Okay maybe he was pushing at Jason’s buttons deliberately but only for the greater good.

“I hate unfinished business.”

Dick wanted to say “I know” but bit his tongue. It wouldn’t do him any good to blow his cover like this. If Jason knew how much Dick knew about him, how much he cared, he would take a shot to the head. And he’d rather have Jason like this, almost relaxed, joking. He looked so beautiful with hope flittering through his eyes.

* * *

Pulling up at that manor made him want to vomit. He fought the urge to turn around and disappear from the face of the earth until Batman was no longer among the living. But for his own sanity – or the part that was still left of it – he didn’t. Instead, he rang the doorbell which was in itself fucking weird and waited. It wasn’t Alfred who opened the door. It was Bruce. And Jason felt instantly catapulted back a few years to that evening he had come to the manor the very first time. Bruce hadn’t wanted to scare him off by introducing him to his butler and had opened the door himself. 

“Jason.” That tone made Jason recoil. It held too many emotions he couldn’t pick out. Didn’t want to. His throat was tight when he returned the greeting.

“Bruce.”

“Why don’t you come in,” he didn’t say it like a question and Jason didn’t take it as such. He followed Bruce to his office, clenched his fist when he passed what used to be his room. Not that Bruce noticed. Or cared. Probably the latter. Once they were inside, Bruce moved as if to lock the door but one look at Jason and he stepped back. There was no way, Jason would be locked in with any of them.

For some uncomfortable minutes, they seized each other up, neither saying a thing. Then, because Jason really wanted this to be done, he spoke up first.

“Just get it over with. You don’t have to be civil on my account.”

“Get what over with.” Bruce’ inflection was non-existent, his tone flat. Jason hated every minute of this conversation. There was a reason he stayed out of B’s part of the city and B stayed out of his. They didn’t mix. Red Hood and the bats. And everyone who tried to bring them together was either hopelessly optimistic or straight up dumb. Considering it had been Dick, both descriptions simultaneously applied.

“This whole shebang!” Jason’s patience was admittedly thin on his best days, which this one was far away from.

“Inviting me here! Wanting to talk all of a sudden!”

Bruce didn’t seem fazed by his outburst, intertwined his fingers, “I do want to talk to you.”

“Then take off the mask when you speak to me!”

“What are you talking about?” As if he didn’t know. For God’s sake, Bruce had a facial expression patented for every possible scenario just so that he didn’t have to show any real emotion. No wonder, his son was so stuck up. Must be the genes.

“Your persona,” Jason wildly gesticulated towards his face, getting more heated, “That Bruce Wayne polite face! It makes me want to rip that fucking expression right off your face!”

“Better?” he asked but sounded unimpressed. Jason ground his teeth. He would never talk to Dick again after this. No matter how much Dick pleaded or gave him the puppy-dog eyes. 

“No.”

“Jason-” And how he said his name. With that same tone like Jason was still a fifteen-year old coming home past his curfew.

“Look,” he pressed out, “you don’t approve of my methods, I get that,” he had to level with him somewhere or this would turn ugly real fast.

“Then why do you do it?”

“Because I don’t need your approval.” Lie. Blatant fuckin lie. He always had and probably always would. But he sure as hell didn’t want Bruce to know that. He didn’t deserve it.

“That’s not an answer.”

“Because I have to, okay? Because nobody else is going to do it and then they go free!”

“You don’t have to kill them.”

“You’re not listening! They go free! And do it again and again unless someone puts a stop to it!”

“It doesn’t have to be you. I trained you not to!”

“If it’s not me, it’s nobody! And you’re not the only one I trained under!”

“I can’t condone killing.”

“Oh, I know! Believe me," Jason spat out making an all-encompassing circle with his hands, "we all fucking know!”

“Jason-”

“No! You have no right to be disappointed in me! I did what you asked! _Anything_ you asked! And you know where it got me?" his voice rose too, his anger burned in his veins like the acid of the pit had on his skin "It got me fucking killed!”

“Jason-”

“You left me there!" he yelled, not able to see beyond the memories of that night, of the cold he had felt "you didn’t come for me! You promised, you would and you didn’t show up!”

“I-”

“And now you want to get on my case for wanting this to stop?" he chuckled harshly, "Not bloody likely! I do what I have to do to make sure this does _not_ happen again!”

“I locked him into Arkham,” Bruce said but it came out softly, like he knew it didn’t hold any merit.

“And two weeks later, he broke out!”

“I am not discussing this with you!” Bruce bellowed with enough volume that the fifteen-year old who was still in Jason's heart cowered. 

“No! You never do! You just look down on me when I’m doing what is right!”

“Killing is never right!”

“So I’m supposed to let some kid get killed because I didn’t take a known murderer out? ‘S that what you’re saying?!”

“I’m saying that I trained you not to kill! You weren’t supposed to-”

“To what? Turn out like this? Wanna know what else I wasn’t supposed to?”

“Die.”

“What?”

“You weren’t supposed to die,” Bruce said, staring intently at the wall.

“No.”

“And I’m sorry for that,” he paused, looked up, “Jason, you have no idea how sorry I am for that.”

“Doesn’t seem like much to me.” He had meant for it to come out emotionless, humouring, but he didn’t manage.

“You didn’t see me- us- after what happened.”

“That’s because I was six feet under!” Like it was his fault. Like it had been some stupid family dinner he had snuck out early to avoid. 

“I didn’t function. I banned everyone from saying your name.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I couldn’t think about you.”

“Great! You just swept me under the rug like some fuckin’ secret! Was that supposed to make me feel better or are you just that determined to make me leave?!” He was getting sicker by the minute, felt the pit water rising in his body like a flood.

“I don’t want to make you leave! I want to make you understand that you’re wrong in your assumptions about us!” Sure. Because he was always wrong, was he?

“Oh, am I?”

“YES!” Bruce yelled and made Jason step back on instinct. It was the first time since back then that Bruce had raised his voice at him. They both startled at the realisation.

“I know it wasn’t easy for you-”

“Wasn’t easy? I _died_ , Bruce! I had to put myself back together with a few years missing in my head and no help from this supposed family! When I came back you had me replaced already! What was I supposed to do?!”

“You could have come to me!”

“Why would I?”

“Because you are my son!”

“You left me for dead!”

“Jason-”

“NO! Don’t you get it?! You took me in, promised me family and left me there to die! You didn’t show up! You didn’t save me and when I saved myself, suddenly, I wasn’t good enough anymore because I wanted that fucking bastard dead before he could hurt me again!” His voice broke, refused to hold up when confronted with all those memories pouring down on him. The abandonment he had felt, the resignation when he had realised Bruce wouldn’t come this time, that he was dead minutes before the last blow was dealt.

“Look at me!” he yelled when he saw Bruce’ eyes downcast, “Fucking _look_ at me and tell me, I’m wrong for wanting to be safe! Just this once, I wanted to be safe!” Tears had gathered in his eyes and he wiped them away, suddenly angry.

“You’re not,” Bruce whispered, “you’re not wrong for wanting that, Jason.”

“Then why-” he couldn’t even bring himself to say it, “why didn’t you look for me?”

“Because you were dead,” Bruce said it so softly like he thought, the words could break Jason right in half if he said them any louder, “I knew you were dead and there was nothing I could do, so I-”

“You wiped me from your memory and gave Tim my job.” The statement was accompanied by dry laugh, void of any real humour. It burned in his throat, even saying it out loud.

“I didn’t know there was a way-”

“For me to come back?” he made a grand gesture with his arms “Well, me neither but here I am.”

“How?” Oh and that was the icing on the cake. Of course, that was all Bruce cared about.

“That’s really what you wanna know? How? Because that’s the important part, right? Not that you deliberately forgot about me.”

“I never forgot about you.” Something about Bruce’ voice made Jason stop. He looked, really looked, and instantly stepped back. Bruce’ face was pained, his eyes glassy.

“I didn’t want to think about you because it hurt, don’t you understand?” he didn’t raise his voice, didn’t scream and his eyes, they were sad, hollow like he too was looking back. “I lost my son that day. I thought that was the last time I would ever hear your voice. Even in our line of work, I didn’t think it was possible for you to- to be revived.”

“Would it have changed anything?” Jason asked, throat clogging up.

“What?”

“If you had known? Would you have done it?”

“Would you have wanted me to?”

“Yes.”

Bruce caught his gaze as if to make sure, Jason would see he was being genuine before he gave his answer.

“Then I would have.” Jason’s resolve, his anger, crumbled.

“Lazarus Pit.”

“What?”

“The Lazarus Pit revived me. I don’t know how or why but it did.” There. He had said it.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For telling me.”

“Figured it was important.”

“Jason-”

“Stop saying my name like that.” It was getting to him, that specific tone. He had heard it too often, before, and he didn’t want to remember.

“I can’t condone killing,” Bruce held up a hand before Jason could explode again, “I won’t. But I understand. I need you to know that I understand.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Of course, it does.” Did it though? Really?

“Why?” he asked and barely kept the agitation out of his voice.

“Because I want to work on- on this and I can only do that if you understand the difference.”

“Work on it,” Jason repeated a bit incredulous, “you want to work on it?”

“Yes. I want- I want you here.” That was not what he had been about to say. Bruce didn’t stutter like that.

“In the manor?”

“In this family.” Right in the chest. Like a shot wound, the pain from this statement – simple as it was – spread.

“Bruce-” his throat felt too tight, like being strangled, “don’t.”

“I don’t want to rush you,” even though he just had, “I just- we have to find a way around this.”

“This being?”

“Killing.”

“Of course.” The sarcasm dripped from his voice. He rolled his eyes, annoyed by the turn of conversation.

“I want to make this right.” Righteous that’s what he was.

“Then how about you start by accepting things that won’t change?!”

“Like?”

“That I kill people.” If it wasn’t perfectly obvious by now.

“How about a compromise?” _Oh no._ Absolutely not.

“What kind of compromise?” He had learnt to be vary of Bruce’ compromises. You rarely knew what you had just agreed to until the time Bruce reminded you of it.

“I understand your reasons but-” he trailed off, like he himself wasn’t sure what he wanted out of this. Out of _him_.

“But?”

“But if there was another option?”

“What option?” Couldn’t he just get on with it? He kept hedging and breaking off and Jason felt anger simmering under the surface. He bit back on it, determined to see this through.

“We have improved the system. They don’t get a free pass anymore. It’s not like it used to be.”

“Even if you’re right- that’s only half of it.” He had decided to come clean now. Wouldn’t do him any good to keep beating around the bush. Sooner or later it would be revealed anyway.

“I don’t always have control over it.”

“The pit?”

“Sure looks like it. Guess being raised from the dead comes with a price.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“I’m trying, Jason.”

“We all are,” Jason murmured, recounting those nights where all he saw was green. Something must have been visible on his face then because Bruce moved as if he had wanted to reach out.

“Would you be willing to try?”

“Try?”

“Try a compromise?”

“If you promise not to judge.”

There was no verbal “yes” but the slight nod would have to count. Jason deemed their conversation finished and left, having had quite enough emotional vulnerability for one day. It didn’t occur to him until he was tucked into bed and unable to sleep that this conversation could have gone a lot worse. 

* * *

Dick had no idea how they were always coming back to that point. Jason was at the manor and discussing case files in one minute, then denying the bats cared in the next. It was enough for Dick to snap.

“I told you already that I didn’t- Jay- I didn’t _know_ …” How could such a smart boy – man, he was a man goddamn it – still not realise that Dick had had no idea Jason was even alive.

“What didn’t you know?”

“That it was _you_! How many times do I have to tell you that?” They had talked about this already. How come Jason didn’t remember?

“What-”

“Jason- for the last time… I didn’t know you were alive! I had no idea who you were!”

“But- I thought…” Oh, it was quite obvious what he had thought. Even if they hadn’t had this discussion already. And Dick’s throat closed up, his stomach turning with dread because he had no idea how to make it stick. If he didn’t know better, he would have said Jason suffered from partial memory loss. But that was nonsense, right?

“I told you, I didn’t know it was you.”

“You keep saying that Goldie, but don’t you think, I would remember that?”

“What?”

“I can’t remember you ever saying this, Dick, okay? I don’t. So, sorry if I’m not to keen to jump on this I-care-for-you-train you’re conducting.”

“What do you mean, you can’t remember? Jason, we’ve talked about this already.”

“I- maybe, okay? I don’t know.”

“How- this isn’t normal, you see that, right?”

“I- okay, look, sometimes- sometimes it happens but it’s not a big deal…”

“It happens?” Dick asked incredulously at the same time as Tim asked “what is _it_?”

It occurred to Dick that Tim had a point here. That ominous “it” plagued Dick a lot, especially with the way Jason said it.

“There _are_ some things, I can’t remember. But that doesn’t mean I missed you sayin’ that stuff to me.”

Dick ignored the last part in favour of asking much more important questions such as “and that doesn’t bother you?”

“It’s not things, I want to remember in the first place, so, no, not really.”

“Jason-” at Bruce’ tone Jason looked like he might want to vomit.

“No,” Jason barked, predictably in Dick’s opinion, “No! _You_ don’t get to have a word in this!”

“It’s called selective memory loss,” Tim intervened and sounded completely uncaring but Dick knew better, “just if you wanted to know.”

“Where’d you get that from?” Jason asked, turning towards Tim and away from Bruce and Dick.

“Looked it up,” Tim said, shrugging.

“What’s it mean?”

“That your brain decides not to remember certain things because they’re hard for you to process.”

“Great. So, I’m going nuts, is what you’re saying.”

“No,” Tim said and looked up for the first time in their conversation, “I’m saying that the trauma you went through might have impacted your ability to comprehend emotionally straining situations and so, in order not to overwhelm you, your brain deletes specific memories.”

“Did you swallow the glossary, Drake?” Damian smirked where he was sitting but Dick noticed a slight tremor in his voice. He suspected, he was impressed and trying desperately not to show it. He almost harrumphed. Wanting to best Tim wouldn’t end well for anyone, least of all Damian. Tim wasn’t about to hand him anything, or give up any ground. Dick didn’t blame him for it.

He had been the very same when Jason had come in. Only, Jason had been so different, so hard to say no to. A lot more charming too than Damian. As much as he loved the little guy, Jason was- well, he was an exception to each rule Dick had ever had. By the end of the first month, Dick would have laid the world at his feet. If Jason had let him.

“Is there something we can do?” Dick saw how agitated Jason was getting but he kept his optimism. It may not have changed their odds, but it might make him feel better. If only one little bit.  
Tim looked at Jason, eyes a pale, steely blue and said “it’s up to you.”

“In short, I’m fucked.”

“Jay-” Dick snapped, “can I talk to you for a second?” The underlying note in his voice must have told Jason, he shouldn’t argue right now, probably because it was his Nightwing-voice. And Jason complied. They made it to Dick’s room quickly.

“Should’a knocked me out when you had the chance, ‘s what I say,” Jason murmured, like it was all some great joke. It was the last straw for Dick. He could take Jason’s insults and his outbursts but that was going to far.

“Do you seriously still think I would do that? Do you- do you think you mean so little to me?” his voice almost broke in the middle of the sentence.

“Don’t come at me with the waterworks! You don’t give a damn about me!”

“Did you not listen to what I literally just said?”

“Oh, I heard you alright, Dickie, but that doesn’t prove shit!”

Later, he would claim not have known what had possessed him to do it. That wasn’t the truth however. Not really. If he was being honest with himself, he had wanted to do that for a long time now. Not quite from the start but it had always been there. Lurking.

Before he could comprehend what was happening, he was on Jason, pressing him against the wall, lips slotted to his. They felt exactly like he had never allowed himself to imagine, soft and plump and just like the pout Jason had always played up.

He only pulled away when he couldn’t breathe anymore, whispering against Jason’s lips “We were going to have dinner that night, remember?”

Jason nodded, eyes closed but Dick could still see the tension in his jaw.

“You asked me that day and I agreed. But then-” he had to swallow against the wetness in his throat, grabbing Jason’s shirt to keep him there, “then Bruce called and I didn’t believe him. I didn’t want to. Because it meant, you were gone.”

“Dick-” the anger had dissipated from Jason’s voice. Dick wasn’t sure if he preferred the raw emotion now audible.

“You couldn’t be gone,” he continued, “you were never supposed to die…”

His fingers clenched in Jason’s shirt, itching to have him closer still.

“I knew you,” Dick whispered, “I knew you back then, remember?” No one had known him better, of that Dick had been so sure. And now, it seemed he had missed a step and couldn’t get through to Jason anymore. It hurt beyond reason, that realisation.

“Past tense.”

“What?”

“Past tense, Dickie,” Jason said with a lack of emotion, “doesn’t mean you know me now.”

“Then let me get to know you!” He didn’t know how else to say it, how to get Jason to _stay_. For good this time.

“Why?” he bit out, “why do you even care?”

“Because I want to know you! I want to be-” he stopped right before he could fuck this up even more.

“You wanna be what? In my life? Yeah, like hell.”

 _With you_ , was what Dick had been about to say.

_I want to be with you._

But since he couldn’t say that – since he had _no right_ to say that – he frantically thought of something else.

“I want to be family,” he said and did not mean it in the slightest. Not like Jason would certainly hear it.

“You want to be _family_ ,” Jason repeated, sounding incredulous. Dick didn’t understand why he said it like it was something dirty. At least until Jason continued “because you were so keen on family the first time…”

“Jason, I-”

“Excuses again? Go ahead, tell me, I’m wrong, Goldie,” he leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, in that infuriatingly confident pose that Dick knew was all posed.

“I can’t wait.”

“I wasn’t about to.” Slowly, Dick was getting the feeling, he couldn’t win. No matter what he said, Jason would hear it as an attack, an insult, an attempt to change the past. That was not what Dick was trying to do.

“I wasn’t about to give you excuses, Jay, I was just trying to explain-”

“Explain what? That it was hard for you back then? ‘Cause B brought me in as your replacement? Well, guess fucking what. I was replaced too, or did you forget that?” And he had handled it even worse than Dick had. Given the circumstance, though, Dick cut him some slack on that one.

“I didn’t forget it,” he snapped, “I just wanted-”

“Oh, I know what you wanted!” Dick highly doubted that “you want me to forget, how you didn’t give a rat’s ass about me when I came in and now you want to play pretend-family because you feel fuckin’ guilty! Wanna know what I say to that? I say fuck you!”

But Dick had had it. The anger had been bubbling up for a while and now, it reached its peak.

“Will you let me talk?!”

Jason startled, flinched. Well, at least, Dick had his attention now.

“I don’t want to pretend,” he said once he had collected his thoughts, “I just-” he heaved a sigh, suddenly exhausted, “I want to get to know you. Not because I feel guilty,” he quickly added.  
Jason had lost his force somewhere and his shoulders had sagged. His voice was timid when he asked “Why then? What’s it to you?”

And what a dangerous question it was. Dick could answer it honestly and could watch Jason disappear into the night never to be seen again. He could answer it dishonestly and start all of their future interactions with a lie. He decided on a middle ground.

“I made mistakes, okay?” he conceded, “I’m not saying, I didn’t because I _did_. But when- when you died, I realised how much I would have liked to know you better. I wanted- I wanted to have dinner every night and talk to you after patrol. But I couldn’t- because you weren’t there…”

“Dick-”

“No- just- let me talk, okay?”

He motioned with his head for Dick to go on, but his face showed how much he didn’t want for him to.

“I won’t make that mistake again. I- you got a second shot and I won’t waste that- because I want- I want to get to know you- _this_ you.”

“Why?” his voice had taken on gravel which made Dick shiver involuntarily.

“Because I think, I’ll like this you.”

“Just this?” Dick needed a moment to understand what he was asking. It hurt his soul that he couldn’t tell Jason that he had liked his younger self too. Maybe a bit too much. But those feelings had been laced with anger and envy and so many negative emotions that he couldn’t say it. It wouldn’t have been the full truth. He _had_ liked Jason. Just as much as he had hated him. And seeing as Dick had loathed that stupidly stubborn kid with all his might, it had been a whole lot. 

“I think, I’ll like _you_ ,” he settled on and watched the most astonishing expression break out on Jason’s face. It wasn’t a smile. Not really. But his eyes shone a little brighter and his mouth had lost its severe curl. He softened around the hard edges of his jaw, looked suddenly younger and less bulky.

* * *

_Surreal_. That was the word Jason would use to describe his current situation. Never in a million years would he have thought it possible to take on a mission with the bats again. Even if he had wanted to, the bats wouldn’t have him, of that he had been so sure. Yet, here he was, running through the canal system with Dick on his heels and a certain Red Bird in his ear. 

“Quit yelling at me, placers!” Jason snapped, fighting the urge to pull off his helmet just to make the kid shut up.

“He’s not-” Dick started but instantly stopped when Jason whirled around. Jason supposed, even with his face obscured his body language was quite telling.

“Aaaand he’s climbing up,” Dick sprinted past him, towards the ladder, climbing before Jason could even lay a finger on it. Then again, Dick had always been fast when it came to heights. Once

Jason saw nightlight again – seeing as those things rarely took place midday – he watched their target run towards an empty warehouse and climb even further, presumably onto the roof. Probably had a heli waiting or something equally obnoxious.

Up there, they were greeted by another man – a thug judging by his appearance – and their numbers were even. Dick made a signal Jason remembered and they started moving. Unfortunately, they hadn’t fought on the same side for a long time and things went awfully wrong the second, Jason’s gaze left Dick’s. They collided badly, Jason having moved too far up and Dick too far down. Upon impact, they fell to the ground, both cursing heartily.

“Watch what you’re doing, Goldie!”

“Jesus, Hood, how ‘bout a little precision?!”

It lasted but a second before they were up and moving again, this time with a wide range that would allow for them to avoid each other. The fight went on and slowly, but surely, they fell into their old style. Moving alongside each other, getting closer until Dick used Jason as a trampoline and catapulted himself into the air, giving Jason the time to move in for a critical hit. The only reason it fell flat was because the thug stumbled before Jason could get to him.

Dick’s foot connected with the other guy and sent him flailing back towards the edge of the roof. It was a perfect chance for an attack, Jason figured and moved in. Dick was at his back, shielding him with his escrimas drawn. The thug scrambled away, closer towards the ledge. Jason, triumph already burning in his veins, hurled his arm back, ready to knock him off the building if need be.

“Hood-” Dick pulled im down just in time before a shot rang through the air. Jason, who had not seen it coming, was instantly furious.

“Too bad, guys,” one of the thugs grinned from ear to ear while the other aimed again. Dick ducked down, cursed. Before either of them could do something to prevent it, they watched their targets jump, like they had suddenly grown wings. Jason moved fast enough to keep Dick from taking a deep dive off the building in an attempt to jump after them. A helicopter – just like Jason had thought – pulled up in the air then. Dick looked Jason like he didn’t quite know what to say. Jason shrugged, equally clueless.

As if a signal had been given, both bent over giggling. Jason felt exhausted but weirdly content.

“Ah, Goldie, I missed your stupid high-kick,” Jason said once he had gotten his breathing back under control.

“Could say the same to you.”

“I don’t have a high-kick.”

“No. But that low-kick you do is- it’s impressive, Jay.” Jason realised that, for the first time, the nickname didn’t make a sharp pain shoot through him. 

“Is it now?” he said, not really paying attention.

“Very,” Dick answered and rolled over so that he faced Jason. They were – Jason noticed – quite close.

“You know,” Jason’s gaze snapped up to Dick’s domino from where it had been glued to his lips, “it’s how I knew, it was you.”

“Hm?” Okay, maybe he wasn’t really listening but could you blame him? Dick was just- too close.

“On that roof top.”

“I don’t follow,” he said because he had no idea what strange idea had taken over Dick’s brain now. They were having a moment here and Dick had to ruin it.

“That night- when I- when I recognised you, it was because of that kick.”

“What do you mean?”

“I knew it was you. Instantly. Because nobody ever does that move like you do, Jay.”

“Flattery won’t get you nowhere, Dickhead.” Because Jason had never been good with compliments, especially not those coming from Dick, rare as they were. He distinctly remembered one particular incident where Dick had told him how adorable he looked when blushing. Granted, he had been a fifteen-year-old hormonal mine field but still. Whenever Dick noticed him like this or paid him a compliment, it screamed of danger.

“No?” Dick smiled like a shark. How had Jason never noticed?

“Nope.”

“Doesn’t hurt to try, though,” Dick said, smirk still firmly in place.

“You know, Jay, I’ve been thinking.”

“’bout what.” Jason was proud to say that his voice didn’t crack despite his body being too hot in all the right places. It must have been the adrenaline making him act so daringly.

“Training with you.”

“What?” that was so not what Jason had been thinking about. It also made his mind wander back to that specific nightmare without his permission.

“I want to train with you.”

“Like fight against me?”

“No,” Dick vehemently shook his head, “with you.”

“Why’d you wanna do that?”

“Because, I think, Little Wing, we could use some practise…”

Jason refused to admit that his face flamed at the nickname. Although Dick stared at him like he knew very well what he had just done.

* * *

It might have been his best idea yet, asking Jason to train with him again. At first, things had progressed slowly, much too tentatively for Dick’s taste but then Tim had shown up and had declared it a challenge. He and Damian versus Jason and Dick.

“We’ve been training together for two years,” Tim had said grinning from ear to ear in a manner that was eerily familiar to Bruce when he talked to CEOs at Galas.

“Drake and I are familiar with each other,” Damian chose to say, despite the connotation the sentence could have. He was probably not even aware of what he had just said. Although, Dick noticed, Tim blushed a little at the top of his ears.

“There’s no way you guys get one over on us.”

“If you wanna think that, babybird, be my guest,” Jason snarled where he had come up beside Dick, hovering over his shoulder. Dick refused to admit to what it did to him.

“You’re going down,” Tim singsonged, already moving in positon. They agreed on the usual ground rules: no serious injuries, no hits to the head before stepping onto the mats.  
Predictably, the first few minutes, Tim and Dami had the advantage. That had been fairly intentional, seeing as the second they let their guard down even a little – thinking this all too easy –

Dick took the opportunity to make eye contact with Jason. In a split second they re-arranged themselves, Jason lifting Dick so that he could do a flip mid-air and landed right behind Damian. While Damian was quick to react, Dick still hit him first. Jason and Tim went at each other and Dick moved to back Jason up. Their bodies aligned, each fighting one brother while keeping contact. Dick pulled his arms through the loop of Jason’s elbows and twirled, kicking Tim in the stomach so hard, he flew back before doing a body roll to stand again. Both Tim and Damian were getting noticeably more heated while Jason remained steady by his side. He used his muscle strength against Tim in what Dick felt was an unfair move, pulling Tim’s arms aside and kicking his legs out from under him.

Only that Tim didn’t fall, held up by Jason’s arm which didn’t budge. He dangled in the air until Damian’s fist flew against Jason’s rib cage and he bent over breathing hard. Dick quickly shielded him again, knee connecting with Damian’s upper body. They circled each other, atmosphere tight.

“Little Wing?” Dick called out, a smirk in his voice, “remember that move we did back then?”

“Sure do, Big Bird, sure do.”

Dick didn’t need to look to know Jason was there. He stepped onto Jason’s outstretched hand, using all the strength of his legs to gain enough speed for the kick he was about to deliver, meanwhile, Jason had already moved away, sliding over the mat until he knocked Tim right over. Dick’s foot hit Damian’s shoulder, Damian fell to the side where Jason was already waiting. Dick, back on the ground, used Jason’s manoeuvre to climb over Tim and push his arms to the mat while securing his legs with Dick’s body weight.

Within a second, both of their opponents were immobilised.

“Fine,” Tim yelled sounding sour, “I yield.”

“Let go of me Todd!” Damian snarled almost at the same time. Dick looked at Jason and his grip on Damian’s upper arms, trapping him. Jason returned his gaze, nodded while he grinned like a maniac.

Dick froze, blinded by the beauty of a carefree Jason who was evidently enjoying himself.

* * *

Dick came up to him after training, back in his usual clothes and paler than he should be after exercise. His body language told Jason, something was wrong. For a moment, he feared, Dick had seen the looks he had given Dick and was about to call him out.

“We should talk,” Dick said, fiddling with a loose thread on his sweater.

Jason sighed “Do we have to?”

“Yes.” Of course, Dick had to go and ruin a perfectly good training session. So, what if Jason had flirted a bit too much? Didn’t mean there was anything in it.

“’Bout what?”

“The kiss.”

“ _You_ kissed me Dickhead,” he snapped, hackles rising already.

“I know. That’s exactly what I want to talk about.”

Jason’s stomach turned uncomfortably. He had a feeling about what was coming.

_Thanks but no thanks._

_I just wanted to show you that I care.  
It didn’t mean anything.  
I do this kind of stuff with everyone. _

The possibilities of Dick’s rejection were endless and endlessly painful. Jason braced himself.

“We should talk about why me kissing you was even an option.”

“What?” Okay whatever Dick was saying, Jason couldn’t follow. How was he supposed to know why Dick had kissed him? He had been wondering about that damn kiss ever since it had happened and now Dick wanted answer from him?

“What I mean,” Dick said in a gentle tone, “is that it shouldn’t have happened, Jason.”

There it was. They had arrived precisely where Jason had always known they would end up. Despite being prepared, it still hurt.

“Maybe you should take that up with yourself then,” he manged to press out, suddenly unable to look at Dick. Their training had lulled him into false safety and now, the rejection felt even worse.

“Look-”

“No,” he had reached the end of his patience, “you kissed me and now you wanna turn it around so that it’s my fault again. Well, you know what? I don’t fuckin care! You kissed me! You deal with it! This is your business and there’s something severely wrong with you! But you’ll leave me the hell out of it!”

He grabbed his helmet, his phone and bag and stormed out of there, not caring that Dick called his name. The banging of the door offered him a sliver of satisfaction to drown out the pain spreading from his chest. He would be careful to touch anything bat from now on.

Especially, when it had Dick written on it.  



	3. Stay with me...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is. The end. 
> 
> I just want to preface that if any of you have issues with self-destructive behaviour or reading about this triggers you, please proceed with caution. 
> 
> To the rest of you: thank you for staying with me and I hope, you enjoy the grand finale.

> _We've got to live. No matter how many skies have fallen._

The door didn’t just _fall_ close. It smashed. Dick winced at the noise, nails buried into his arms where he was holding onto himself.

“Richard?” Damian’s was softer than it had any right to be. He came around a corner, hesitated before stepping closer. Dick wanted to tell him, he was fine, that it was okay. But he couldn’t.

“I heard-” he didn’t specify what exactly he had heard. Dick didn’t need him to. His body had started shaking when he had realised that Jason was about to bolt and that there was nothing he could do. And now, with the room empty – save for Damian and himself – the trembling intensified.

“Richard are you-” alright, is what he had been about to say. Dick saw it in the way his jaw clenched. Despite himself, he shook his head, couldn’t lie, not about this. 

“Do you-” another pause, “do you wish to talk?” 

It was that moment which showed Dick how awful he must look that Damian offered to listen to him.

“Damian?!” Tim came down as well, yelling for Damian until he stumbled over the both of them, frozen in a bubble Dick didn’t want dissolved yet. Damian turned, face flushed.

“Am I interrupting something?” Sharp as ever, wasn’t he?

“He left,” Dick croaked out, voice hoarse. Even saying it hurt like a kick in the teeth. 

“Why? Last I checked, you guys were good…” Yeah. Same here. That’s why Dick had wanted to talk. Because training with Jay had been something else, something straight out of his dreams.

 _Dreams_ , not nightmares. 

And so dangerously close to before. Yet, it had been so much better, so much more real because Dick knew, Jason wouldn’t break, could go head to head with him. That neither could overpower the other, that they matched in skill and abilities in a way he just didn’t feel with the other birds. Jason, who was so different in built and fighting style from him was also the one he was both most comfortable and compatible. It had served as a manifestation of all the feelings Dick had tried to push away over time. Like unshakable proof that they _belonged_ together.

“Dick?” Tim’s call of his name ripped him out of his reverie.

“I didn’t mean it the way he heard it.”

“Don’t you ever…” 

“What?”

“You always say something and he misunderstands because you subconsciously word it so that it’s easier to misunderstand if that’s what he’s already thinking,” Tim took a breath Dick recognised as exasperated “Your brain knows exactly what his brain’s going to hear so that’s what comes out of your mouth.”

“Why would it do that?”

“Because you’re so scared to admit what’s really going on here.”

“I’m not-”

“What? Not scared, he’s going to die again? That if you had him and lost him, it would destroy you? That he’ll find out just how much you care and go haywire?” 

“Drake-” Damian hissed. Dick noticed, in the part of his brain that wasn’t busy processing what Tim had said, how Damian reached out and laid a hand on Tim’s shoulder, likely to stop him from shattering Dick completely. And that Tim _let_ him.

“Wouldn’t you be?” he whispered, suddenly overwhelmed with images of Jason lying on the pavement, not as a fifteen-year old but as he was now. Only because Dick was already looking at Tim did he see the little flicker of his eyes to his left before he nodded. 

“Of course, I would,” Tim said, eyes back on Dick. Meanwhile, Damian stepped closer, hand still on Tim’s right shoulder. 

“You should speak to him,” he said, despite clearly being out of his element.

“And tell him what?”

“The truth, Dick,” Tim said, eyes wide like he wanted to drill it into Dick’s head, “tell him the truth and make sure, there’s no room for misinterpretation. Just lay it all out on the table for him. He deserves at least that.”

Dick found himself nodding along, but his stomach turned at even the idea. 

“What if-” he trailed off, cleared his throat.

“What if it isn’t mutual?”

“Yeah.”

“Then it isn’t and you can move on.” Maybe, but at what cost? Dick watched both Tim and Damian head for the stairs, seemingly content to leave him to wallow in his misery, when Tim suddenly stopped. 

“But to be honest,” he threw over his shoulder, “I highly doubt it, especially after how he was flirting with you all the way through training…” 

“It was rather disgustingly obvious,” Damian added. It was that – Tim and Dami agreeing on something – that cemented the resolve in Dick’s head. He grabbed his gear and keys, one mission in mind.

Find Jason.

Make this _right_.

* * *

That first night was the hardest for Jason to get by. He came home, still shivering and impossibly cold. Even the shower didn’t help. Despite the rational part of his brain insisting he stay home, he ignored it. His usual rounds didn’t help calm him, the night air only made the cold residing in him feel more pronounced. After three hours of uselessly chasing shadows, he stumbled across a bar. A seedy bar, now that he thought about it, dimly lit and so very much what he shouldn’t walk into. But he did.

His helmet was safely stored in his bag and he didn’t have armour on tonight. Maybe because he reared for a fight. It didn’t take long for a man to approach him, knuckles cracking, jaw crooked. Jason stood, throwing back his drink. The guy came up to his chin but was built like a brick wall.

 _Perfect_.

A few choice words here, a strategic insult there and the guy lost his head. He threw the first punch, hitting Jason right on the nose. Blood splattered and his eyes instantly watered. While stumbling back, he regained his balance and bounced forward. He managed to get a good hit in, saw the guy’s head snap to the side with the force of his punch. His knuckles burnt upon impact but the skin was still intact.

When the guy kicked his knee out of under him and elbowed him in the gut, Jason felt his anger rising. First, it was barely noticeable but the longer they fought, the dirtier their hits became, the higher it climbed.

This time, there was no green anywhere in his vision but the red-hot fury still remained. With precision, he knocked the guy onto his ass, watched him seethe down there before coming at him with new vigour. His ribs started to ache, his lip burst and his knees buckled more frequently. When he had to lean onto the bar to steady himself, unable to stand unassisted any longer, he took a breath before raising his hands in surrender. Walking out, relief burned through him, prickled on the rawness of his skin. Bruises were already starting to form and once home, he pressed his fingers into them to re-ignite the searing pain.

A part of him, he realised, liked to feel the punches raining down his body. When he lay in bed, exhausted and so very sore, it took his mind off the pain clawing at his chest. 

The nightmares came with insistent intensity. He wouldn’t wake, wouldn’t know for sure whether he was asleep or not. None of his usual methods worked. Alcohol did nothing for him. Whenever he drank, Dick’s fingers danced over his rib cage, lips hovered over his own without ever really touching. Taunting almost, like his mind wanted to remind him over and over again that he would never have Dick. That he was too broken, too bad to ever be anything else but a charity case to the golden boy.

It hurt. So very badly. 

He wished it had never happened, that he didn’t know what Dick felt like against him. But he did and it made it so much worse. Dick’s words played on repeat in his head, growing more vicious with each new re-run. The night bled into the day and back into night and Jason hadn’t left his flat. Only when his bruises started to heal did his anger come back, ripped him out of his misery. In the minutes between, when he could see clearly, untainted by the greenly light from the pit and the red veil from his rage, he realised, he was bad off, knew he needed to stop. If only he could.

The pit reared its head by the end of the day and when the clock showed two in the morning, he sat up in bed, drenched in sweat and knew, the pit had won.

The alcohol remained where he kept it stored. He didn’t even pick up his helmet this time, simply went out without further thought. For two nights he hadn’t slept, hadn’t gotten any rest. It should have slowed him down, he realised, but instead, the blood was pumping through his veins with new ferocity. He didn’t see his hands shake when he throttled a guy on the streets for looking at him queer.

When he walked away, the guy was sitting up and coughing, one half of his face swelling up already. Adrenaline rushed through him, made his pulse the only thing he could hear. The next person who crossed him – a man swinging fists like nobody’s business – kicked him in the gut so hard, he spat out blood. With the liquid dripping from his chin, he smiled, knowing full well how unsettled he must look. The guy ran when he saw that, turned tail like a mad man was kneeling before him.

Jason almost mourned the lost opportunity.

Three hours, it took for this unsettled feeling inside him to rest. He almost passed out on the way home, struggled to keep standing with bruises and cuts littering his body. One block from his apartment away and he leant against a wall in an alleyway.

Breathing hurt.

 _Everything_ hurt.

And he had never felt better, had never felt more alive. The blood on his knuckles reminded him of the fact that he if he _could_ bleed, he was still there, still kicking. No matter what they had done to him, he was still standing. The rush died down before he could enjoy it fully. It always did.

The second the searing pain stopped, his thoughts came crawling back. But for a moment there, he had been able to stand being himself, to _feel_ something else but how torn apart he was.

He pulled himself up, aching to lay down on his bed. His knees shook with exhaustion, as did his shoulders. A police car rushed past him and he wondered briefly if he needed to be somewhere else.

Footsteps came up behind him. Fast. With intent. Jason readied himself to fight back, to knock whoever thought him an easy target right off his high horse.

Instantly, his stomach plummeted when he saw who was coming closer steadily.

No. No. No. No. _NO_!

Not that. Not Dick too. He couldn’t do this. Not now. He had- he needed to leave.

“Jason!” Dick skidded to a halt in front of him, held out his hands to stop him from leaving, “I looked everywhere for you!”

Why, Jason had no idea. And he didn’t want to. Dick had said what he had wanted to say in the cave. Jason didn’t need to hear any more than that. He would not be talked into brushing this off again. Not this time. Dick had crossed the line and now they were done. Every secret hope he had had for things to turn out okay, Dick had squashed under his boot that day. 

“What did you do, Jay?” he heard Dick’s breath hitch when his face came into view, and with that, his broken nose and the blackening of his eye, “what did you do?”

“None of your business,” he ground out, voice low. He couldn’t deal right now and Dick had no right to ask him to.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Dick said, completely ignoring Jason’s attempt to shut down the conversation, “I couldn’t find you.”

“Didn’t wanna be found,” he growled, scanning the street for his best exit route. He could not stay here. Not with Dick so close while he wanted nothing more than to rip that pretty head off his shoulders.

“Jason please, just-” He didn’t hear the rest of what Dick said because his mind was swimming with memories again.

He couldn’t _breathe_.

The thoughts were becoming more difficult to ignore and he stepped back. Dick followed. Again. Because he didn’t realise yet how fragile Jason’s control really was.

Out of instinct, he drew his gun, aiming directly at Dick’s head while he stepped back further. _Distance_. There had to be distance in between them or something bad would happen. But Dick still didn’t get the memo.

“Jay? Put the gun down, I’m just here to talk!”

But he couldn’t. He needed Dick to back the fuck off right now. This was too close, he was standing too close.

“Get the fuck outta here,” he snarled, quickly losing control over his limbs. His finger was itching around the trigger and yet, he couldn’t take it off.

“Can’t-” Dick had that stupidly sheepish grin on his face. Jason, somewhere in the functioning part of his brain, realised, Dick had no idea how close he was to losing it completely. How the fight still thrummed in his veins and the pit lurked behind his eyes, making him see nothing but green.

“I mean it, Dickie…” He had never meant anything quite this much. Viciously biting on his lip, he forced himself to step away. Which would have worked if Dick hadn’t followed.

“Go away!” Jason tried again, panic seeping into his voice. He prayed Dick would hear it, needed him to hear it. But Dick didn’t seem to get it. He caged Jason in, despite the gun pointed at his head.

“Dick don’t-” The wall was at his back, an unmovable force. His breath came shorter by the second, his chest felt constricted. But Dick still didn’t stop, wasn’t done.

“Jay please- just let me _talk_ -”

“ _Shut up!”_ Jason bellowed, hand shaking badly, “shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” His focus was slipping, his control too. The edges of his vision were fading in and out, he could taste blood in his mouth.

“Jay-”

And he had had it. Without realising what he was doing, he his arm drew back. His fist connected hard with Dick’s face, making him stumble back immediately.

“Stay the hell away from me!” he bit out, knuckles bloody. He had no idea whether he burst his skin or if it was the blood from Dick’s nose and instantly felt sick. Dick stood, looking shell shocked and so incredibly hurt, Jason whirled around.

He couldn’t do this. 

* * *

The second night in a row and he still had trouble closing his eyes. For different reasons than before though.

Every time he did, he saw things that made him want to vomit. One minute, he was on his back and that stupid fuckin crowbar rained down on him until his ribs cracked and his bones broke. Another and he watched himself tear through a man until he was standing knee-deep in blood. Then there was Bruce staring down on him, listing his mistakes, his failures, his weak spots, comparing him to Dick. And when it was three in the morning and he had drunk half a vodka bottle, the worst memories came crawling back. That horrid laugh haunted him even with the radio on high volume and the TV running.

And Dick.

It always came back to Dick and his disappointed face. Sometimes, like tonight, Jason’s memories mixed with his nightmares and he couldn’t tell them apart anymore. In that strange place between awake and asleep, he saw Dick sneering at his scars, watched him point and laugh at how disfigured Jason looked underneath his clothes. He woke to a pounding heart and his body drenched in sweat, made it to the bathroom barely in time before he was throwing up.

The shower was his only reverie. He could turn on the searing hot water and let it burn on his skin until everyone of Dick’s touched was washed away in the drain.

An hour later, he heard commotion on the fire escaped and instantly lunged for his guns. The second he aimed them, the window burst open and two figured crawled in. It took him longer than he wanted to admit to make out who they were. He was still shivering from being sick, his skin an angry red from him rubbing at it and he stood on wobbly knees.

“What-” he had to clear his throat, force his voice to be steady, “what’re you doin’ here?” He didn’t quite manage to keep his biting tone up and hoped the gun would relay the message for him. 

“You hurt Richard,” the spawn had the audacity to snarl in _his_ home. Yet all Jason heard was the words “hurt Dick” and he wanted to back down. He hadn’t meant to. Truly and he knew, he shouldn’t lash out like this. That it wasn’t okay to hit people because his coping mechanisms were lacking. But admitting that, facing it head on, was difficult and he didn’t know how to do it.

Nobody had ever told him.

The replacement eyed him from where he had been inspecting the mess that was Jason’s apartment. Jason knew, he had seen the traces of blood on the floor and on his clothes and had put it together. A look of understanding, maybe even empathy, crossed the kid’s features before the mask of indifference was firmly back in place. The resemblance to Bruce was uncanny. 

“We thought, we’d remind you,” he started, voice even and levelled, “lest you forget again what you did to him.” 

“What _I_ did to him?” like Dick hadn’t kicked him right in the feels, “are you nuts?” Like Dick deciding Jason wasn’t worth his time of day after kissing him hadn’t sparked his downward spiral.

And sure, maybe it wasn’t an excuse but it sure as hell was a _reason_. 

“No.” The demon spawn said completely unironically, like it hadn’t been a rhetorical question.

“Wanna elaborate?!”

“You _hit_ him,” Damian spat out and Jason stepped back at the venom in his tone, “you hit Richard.”

“He came at me!”

“No,” of course, the replacement had to intervene here, like he had been there, like Dick’s story was the whole thing and not just a part of what had happened.

“You drew a gun on him and when he didn’t want to leave because he _worried_ you were going to hurt yourself, you punched him straight in the face!”

“That’s not- listen, you’ve got it wrong!” Jason didn’t know how to explain it to him that Dick had come too close, that he had been out of options at that point, with the pit so damn near to the surface, still bubbling after his fight earlier.

“Do we? Because we saw the bruise and it’s damn well near black.”

“I didn’t mean to hit him, okay?” he had to level here otherwise, the both of them would make his life a more of a mess than it already was.

“Then why did you? How can you do this to him?!”

“Because he wouldn’t _leave_! I told him over and over again to leave it be and he wouldn’t!”

“So you hit him?!” 

“No!”

“Then what happened? Why does he have a black eye, Jason?” 

Jason, whose anger and feeling of being cornered had increased steadily over the last minutes, finally blurted out the truth “Because he was too close!”

“What?”

“Todd you are talking nonsense.” Jason could see where he was coming from because Dick had been all over him in training and now he said, he didn’t want him close. But that had been _before_. 

“He was too close to me and I couldn’t-” he had to take a breath and force himself to calm down, despite his stomach turning, “I couldn’t deal. I needed him to back off and he wouldn’t…”

“That doesn’t justify hitting him,” Tim said but sounded less accusatory. And he was right. Jason knew, he was right. It had never been his intention to hurt Dick physically. Sure, he had lashed out because Dick had _hurt_ him with his rejection but he had never intended to repay the favour like this.

“I know that, okay?” Jason settled, still riled up about it himself, “but it was that or something way worse and I couldn’t risk that.” It _did_ sound like justifying himself, making excuses he had no business making but he needed someone to understand that it hadn’t been his choice exactly, hadn’t been deliberately. 

“What are you saying, Todd?”

“That I _wanted_ to pull that trigger,” he whispered, beaten “a part of me at least.” The confession physically hurt him. Because it proved how damaged he was that he couldn’t even handle one conversation with someone who had rejected him. 

“But you’re so-” the replacement stopped suddenly, bit his lip and Jason noticed that even the demon spawn looked highly uncomfortable. 

“I’m so what?”

“Nothing,” the kid said “sorry.”

“Placers, I swear to God, don’t test me today. I’ve had it up to here.” Tim – and it was Tim and not Red Robin – looked at him with a mixture of sadness and pity. Jason had no time to unpack all of what he was saying with just that look. Before he could ask, Tim already answered. 

“You’re so in love with him,” he said softly. 

It should have been funny, Jason thought. That all the movies were true. He heard nothing but a loud beeping sound, the second, Tim voiced what had been in his head ever since he had first talked to Dick on that rainy afternoon after trying to steal Bruce’ tires. Just that beeping sound and nothing else. He was frozen right there, unable to move back to the point where his feelings had been unspoken.

He found himself alone in his empty apartment, staring at the place where the two birds had stood with not the faintest clue of how much time had passed.

* * *

The doorbell surprised him. Nobody ever rang, they just marched in. Never in a million years would he have thought to see whom he did see when he opened that door.   
_Jason_.

And not only that. It was a Jason who could barely look at him, who stared at his feet and shuffled around. A Jason Dick hadn’t seen in a very long time. His heart did a double take he wished he could take back.

God, he looked a mess. And Dick still cared. He shouldn’t let him in. What he should do was slam the door in his face and be done with it. Not that he would ever find the strength to do that. Not that he truly wanted to either.

“I want to apologise,” Jason sounded just like back then. Humble, small and so very guilty. It was why he stepped aside to let him pass so easily. They made it to Dick’s room without running into anyone else. Tim, Dick suspected was hiding in the cave and spying at the security footage from the hallway. Once the door fell close behind Jason, Dick crossed his arms, to protect and steady himself at the same time. 

“Okay?” he motioned for Jason to continue. 

“I didn’t mean-” Dick watched him take a breath that had to hurt with the way his body was one big bruise.

“I didn’t mean to punch you.”

“No?” Dick asked, tone a bit more pointed than it probably should have been. He just couldn’t help it, his face still hurt.

“No,” Jason’s shoulders were up to his ears. As if Dick needed more of a sign that Jason was highly uncomfortable.

“Dick-” he bit himself off, bit his lip in the process which started bleeding again. Dick almost reached out to dab at it but he forced himself not to. Not when his own eye was still black and swollen.

“Why?” he managed to ask with the right amount of determination in his voice. He would always give Jason a chance but not without an apology and a damn good reason. After everything, Jason owed him at least that. 

“You were too close,” Jason said, eyes still on the ground.

“I was too close,” he parroted back, caught off guard because he had no idea what that meant. 

“I- I was coming down from a pretty bad trip and you were too close.”

“What- you know what I’m going to ignore that first part for now because otherwise we’re never getting to the bottom of this but what the hell do you mean I was too close?”

“I can’t- when I’m like this, I can’t have people near me.”

“Why not?” And now he was really intrigued. This sounded – well, it sounded bad. Even worse than Jason being on any sort of trip. Especially, since Dick knew his opinions on drugs of any kind.

“Because I’ll lash out- I’ll hurt them.”

“Like you hurt me?”

“No, Dickie-” the chuckle sounded wrong, so choked up and throttled, “not like that.”

“Then what?” Jason had to settle with him on this one. He had to give him _something_ here, damn it. Dick only heard Jason’s answer because he was listening for it.

“I would have pulled that trigger…”

“What?”

“I would have shot you.” His heart did a weird flip before breaking right in half. 

“You- do you hate me that much?”

“NO!” Jason stepped forward hastily like that changed anything, “no. I don’t hate you, Dickie! That’s exactly what I’m sayin’!”

“I don’t- Jason that’s-”

“Dark? Fucked up?” he shook his head, “I know that, okay? But that’s what I’m tryin’ to tell you,” a heavy pause followed in which Dick almost burst at the seams with the need for Jason to go on, “I didn’t _want_ to shoot you. But I knew, if you didn’t leave, I was gonna.”

“I don’t understand.” Jason heaved a sigh, not an exasperated one but rather a pained one.

“I didn’t come back okay, Dickie, you have to get that into your head.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, being revived has a price. And I still- I still pay for it.”

“How?”

“Like that- like precisely this situation. I don’t- there’s days when it gets out of control, when I don’t have a lid on my anger and it just explodes. And when that happens…” Dick would remember this moment for a long time. Because it was then the penny finally dropped. “The killing,” he breathed “that’s- that’s why you do it…”

“Not all of it. At the beginning, I truly felt like it was the only option but then- then it got out of hand and I- I tried to stop, okay? I did. But then it got bad again and I couldn’t- I _needed_ to…” he trailed off, stared at the wall with something in his gaze that made him look way older than he was.

“And I couldn’t- Dickie, it couldn’t be you.”

“No?” He had been wondering. If Jason really had wanted him gone that much in that moment. Not that he would have ever even considered that Jason would pull that trigger. Not even now that he had admitted to the possibility. Dick refused to believe that. Jason would never do that. 

“No! I would never- I would never do that to you.” There it was. Right there. Dick saw it plain as day. He just needed to poke a little more. Just a tiny bit more. 

“So what you’re saying is that you hit me because you didn’t want to hurt me more?” To clarify. To make _sure_ that was what Jason had been saying. 

“Yes.”

“Jay-”

“I know, okay? I know, it’s fucked up but I needed you gone in that moment! I couldn’t risk it!” 

“Why not?” 

“What?” Jason swallowed like he knew what Dick was hinting at even before Dick continued. 

“You didn’t have a problem giving in before- killing others. What makes me so special that you pulled through for me?” It was so unfair, so goddamn unfair. Dick knew it was. He just had to _know_. This was his only chance to get an honest answer. 

“You know why…” he hedged. 

“No. I really don’t.” It was the truth. He had his suspicions but he didn’t _know_. And he so desperately longed to.

“Dick-”

“Tell me, Jay…” And if he let his eyes go wide and his voice drop low, nobody had to know.

“Don’t- Dick, _please_ don’t-”

He couldn’t help it, not when he was this close to both of their lives becoming a lot easier. It was just out of reach, he could almost smell it in the air.

“You hit me in the face, Jason!” he bellowed, “I deserve to know!”

“Fine!” Jason snapped “fine.” There was another pause, a heavy one, before Jason breathed in, making eye contact. “They didn’t matter- back then- they didn’t _matter_. But you- _fuck_ \- you do, Dickie, okay? You do.”

Dick’s heart fluttered in his chest. Never would he have thought he would ever hear Jason admit to it, admit that he cared. He had had a feeling ever since Jason hadn’t shoved him away when he had kissed him but after their talk, Dick had been so convinced, it had been his imagination. Now though, now he was sure, Jason cared. He had just said it himself. And maybe it wasn’t a declaration of love but he could deal with that. All that mattered was that Jason _cared_.

“Thank you,” Dick said, putting as much conviction in his voice as he could.

“So… we’re good?” Jason asked, once again uncomfortable. A blush had started to form on his cheeks. Or at least the part Dick could see.

“Almost.” Dick watched Jason square his shoulders at that like he anticipated stepping in front of a firing squad. 

“What else do you want, Dickie?”

He made sure to wait until Jason’s eyes were back on him before posing his question “what were you tripping on?”

In an almost comical way, Jason spluttered “what?”

“You said earlier you were coming down from a trip and I know you don’t take drugs so what were you tripping on?” The idea alone that there could be something out there Jason might have taken made him want to vomit. Luckily, Jason stopped that train of thought right there. 

“The pit.”

For a minute, Dick didn’t make the connection but then it dawned don him what Jason was saying.

“Oh.”

Jason nodded, like he knew exactly where Dick’s thoughts were circling around “yeah.”

“Then we’re done.”

“Awesome.” Jason turned, still tense in his neck and shoulders and went for the door. Dick had a hard time watching before he stopped him mid-step. 

“But you’ll come back, right?” he didn’t care how pleading he sounded, “you won’t disappear like last time?”

“Do you-” Jason shifted until his body was twisted half-way to stare at Dick with those teal eyes. Dick could read each and every insecurity in them before Jason asked “do you want me to?”

“Yes.”

“Okay- I can- I’ll see what I can do.” His foot crossed the threshold. Dick thought it over, considered if he really wanted to speak up again before realising that _yes_ , he _did_ want to bring that up. 

“Oh and Jay?” he called out. 

“Hm?”

“Take care of yourself?”

“Always am, Big Bird.”

“No, I mean-” he gestured at his face, at the wounds there, “take care of yourself.”

Jason shrugged, looked like he didn’t want to have that conversation but Dick didn’t budge.

“Please,” Dick added and watched Jason’s jaw set. That one word had an instantaneous effect. Dick considered it his secret weapon. No one could do the puppy eyes quite like him.

“Fine.” He more or less stormed out. Dick noticed it was more of a defence mechanism: that stomping. 

And if Dick vowed to keep a closer eye on Jason after that, just to step in if need be, nobody had to know, right?

* * *

Two weeks later, Jason had been home most of the time which Dick had made sure of and things turned around again. He didn’t quite know how it had happened but suddenly, his phone was ringing and Jason was on the other end. Mostly breathing shallowly, he explained to Dick, while sounding fairly inebriated, how the nightmares had caught up with him again. Dick focussed on that little word at the end because it made alarm bells go off in his head.

“About you,” Jason whispered, “they’re ‘bout you.” Dick’s throat clogged up because he knew how that felt. He had been dreaming of Jason for so long that it seemed like forever.

“What am I doing?” he asked, afraid of the answer. Maybe Jason saw him instead of the Joker, beating him, hurting him. Or Dick was dying in his dreams because Jason’s anger had gotten the better of him. Either way, Dick didn’t like it.

“Depends,” Jason said sounding so haunted, it hurt Dick to listen, “sometimes, that bullet hits you in the head, sometimes you’re-” Dick heard him swallow, “you’re taunting me and you have _his_ face…” Dick decided right there that this was enough. Nobody should have to put up with that, should have to see that while they were supposed to be resting. Probably for that reason did he invite Jason over, told him, he could stay. 

“You don’t mind?”

Dick chuckled, “no, Little Wing. I don’t mind at all. I just want you to be safe.”

“Alright.” Dick could tell from his tone, Jason wasn’t used to hearing that.

“I can-” there was another small hesitation before Jason seemingly got his nerves under control. Dick almost thought it adorable.

“I can be there in fifteen.” Dick heard the unspoken question hovering there and decided to, once and for all, ease Jason’s mind. If that was possible.

“Don’t speed,” Dick chastised him, painfully aware that he behaved like a helicopter parent.

“Worried I’m gonna crash, Dickie?” From Jason’s voice alone, Dick could tell, he was smirking. Still. He drove it home with a pointed “yes”. That shut Jason right up.

Sixteen minutes later, Dick’s doorbell rang. To be precise, the doorbell of his apartment complex rang. Sure, he had a room at the manor, and that would probably always be his home but this flat right here? It was great to have whenever he needed space or time to think. It was exclusively his and his alone, void of any bat-tec. Nobody besides Tim and Dami had ever been over. Well, and Bruce of course but Bruce had helped him pick out the flat so it didn’t really count.

“Fancy,” Jason said upon entering even though it was anything but. Dick wasn’t too great with keeping his apartment clean. He looked worse for wear but still better than the last times Dick had seen him. From the bags under his eyes, Dick could tell, Jason hadn’t gotten much sleep. His bruises were healing though, so that was a plus.

“I was just heading to bed,” he motioned towards his bedroom.

“I can take the couch.” He noticed how Jason looked around, probably measuring the couch which was definitely a good few inches too short for him to fit on.

“Do you want to?” Dick asked, having picked up on the reluctance underneath all that nonchalance. Jason’s answer neither surprised nor disappointed him.

“No.”

“Figured,” he said around a pleased smile, “could have stayed at your place if you were just taking the couch. Same difference.”

Jason shook his head in disbelief “you’re somethin’ else, Dickie, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.” He saw an answering smirk on Jason’s lips before exhaustion took back over.

“Come on.” Despite wanting to, he didn’t reach for Jason’s hand, fully aware, Jason didn’t like when someone initiated physical contact when he was stressed. Either way, Jason followed him into the darkness of his bedroom.

“Got any preference?” There was a slight commotion behind him so he turned to see Jason spluttering. Although why, he had no idea.

“I usually sleep in the middle,” he powered on, determined not to make this awkward. Who knew, why Jason had freaked just now. He made a little “oh” sound like something had just occurred to him before pointing to the right. 

“Kay. I’ll take the left then,” Dick said and settled down. Jason hovered for another minute, then he slid into bed on Dick’s right. They didn’t touch and for once, Dick didn’t bemoan the fact.

“If-” he stopped himself, “if I get violent or something just- just leave okay?” Dick could tell how much it cost him to say the words. He appreciated the warning but it didn’t make him worry.

“Just go to sleep, Jay,” he whispered into the darkness, “you look like you need it…”

He lay awake for a while, listening to Jason breathe. It shouldn’t have been as comforting as it was. Dick suspected it settled that restlessness inside him that still thought, Jason was dead. The brush of air every now and then, whenever Jason breathed out, reminded him that he was in fact very much alive.

“You’re safe here, Jay,” he kept his voice down, not wanting to disturb Jason, especially, if he was almost asleep.

“Thanks, Dickiebird…” came the muffled answer. The nickname made something warm and fierce in his chest expand until it spread through his whole body. The fact that Jason was here with him, that he came despite their rocky start meant so much to him, he couldn’t even describe it. Jason seemed at ease almost, certainly less jumpy than all the times Dick had talked to him. He wanted to keep it that way, wanted to make sure, from now on, he knew he had a place to go when things turned unbearable.

Jason deserved that.

* * *

It started innocently enough. The touching. First, it was a hand hovering over Jason’s for a second too long when Dick brought him coffee. Then, a hand to his shoulder when he walked around Jason bending over the table. Dick also seemed to forget the concept of personal space, not deliberately but like Jason was a magnet whose force he couldn’t withstand. He stood too close, sat too close, breathed Jason’s air like it was normal. He should have known, Jason would reach his limit but he had hoped it would take him longer. It happened when Dick plastered himself over Jason’s back where he was looking at a file, slightly bent at the waist.

“Why do you do that?” Jason snapped, sounding queer. Meanwhile, Dick was genuinely confused, unaware of doing something out of the ordinary. It just came so natural to him. Physical contact. And he longed for it, especially where Jason was concerned.

“Do what?” he hedged, scared to be called out and forced to stop. 

“Touch me.” Instantly, Dick stepped away, pulling his hand back. He honestly hadn’t meant to. Not without Jason’s permission, it had just happened. 

“Sorry.”

“I don’t want an apology,” Jason snapped, “I want to know why you’re doing it.”

Dick hesitated, couldn’t meet his eyes, afraid of what he would see. Anger? Disgust? Something else?

“I don’t know- it’s- I don’t do it on purpose…” Not a lie. He truly didn’t. 

“But?” How could years have passed without him changing? Dick wondered, how he still knew Dick, still saw through him like Bruce never had. 

“But,” he acknowledged with a smile, “if I- if I can touch you, you’re here, you know?”

“No.”

Dick sighed, trying to explain. “I keep thinking that you’ll be gone when I turn around to look.”

“I still don’t get it.” Of course, he wouldn’t. Dick supposed it was quite in character for him. 

“I reach for you, because it means- it means, I _can_ touch you- that you’re real,” he paused, throat suddenly too tight, “it means, I didn’t make you up in my head.”

“Why would-” Jason sounded hoarse; his eyes flickered across the room, “why would you make me up in your head?”

Because he had. More than once. Sometimes, he had seen Jason wander through the manor, in his Robin uniform with that sneaky grin. Some days, he had woken up to find Jason hovering, staring at him with undisguised hatred in his eyes. He had chased him through the batcave one night, high on a fight and sleep deprived, had watched him disappear into thin air when he had reached out.

He said none of that, settling instead on “because I missed you, Jay.”

“Oh.”

“You’re surprised?” 

“I mean…” Jason hesitated, scratched his head, “look Dickie, we weren’t exactly close when I- back then…”

“Maybe-” Dick conceded “but I still missed you. We lived together, I saw you practically every day. Did you think I was just going to shrug it off like it didn’t matter?”

His expression told Dick that he had thought that and the realisation hurt more than he cared to admit. It had been his fault, their rocky relationship but, at the time, he had seen Jason as his replacement. Every positive emotion, every flicker of want or friendliness had to be eradicated right there. But Jason hadn’t known how Dick had seen him, how Dick had – only ever in his own head – found him adorable and sweet and so goddamn alluring. How Dick had fought that flicker of interest ever since he had first become aware of it.

“Jason-” he set up to explain but couldn’t really find the words. Jason glanced at him from under his lashes, face an even lighter shade of white than usual.

“I’m gonna…” he pointed towards the door in a throw-away gesture. Dick didn’t want him to leave, not now that he finally had him here without a threat of bodily harm. Maybe that was the reason why he blurted out what he did.

“I grieved for you.” Jason stopped dead in his tracks, hand outstretched out for the door handle but not touching it. 

“What?” his tone had no inflection; none at all but Dick still powered on, unable to stop now. 

“I grieved for you,” he repeated.

“Dick-” he sounded so chocked up, like one more word would make him shatter. Dick didn’t want him to, but he needed to say his piece, needed to make sure, Jason _heard_ him this time.

“No. If you still think, I didn’t care then you’re wrong! You’re so goddamn wrong, Jay, you have no idea.”

“No? So, you didn’t ignore me? You didn’t knock me unconscious with your damn high kick that one time?”

There it was. His anger. Dick was almost glad to see it back. This was so uniquely Jason, so very much like him that Dick could almost see the boy of fifteen bursting with anger after Dick had knocked him down on the mats that first time. Still, he didn’t understand what it was that made Jason so angry right now. 

“What are you talking about?” he asked, mind reeling for an answer. 

“Oh,” Jason snarled, baring his teeth, “did you conveniently forget all of that?”

“No! I didn’t forget it! But it was different back then! I wasn’t supposed-” Dick bit his lip and wished to pull that one sentence back in to swallow it down. That wasn’t meant to have come out.

“What? You weren’t supposed to what.”

“I wasn’t supposed to like you!”

“And you did a damn good job at not liking me!” Jason, always so quick to fire back, had obviously not realised what Dick had just admitted to. Not fully, at least. 

“Wrong!” he snapped, getting agitated with the situation. 

“What?”

“I said, you’re wrong!”

“Lying doesn’t suit you, Dickie.” That was rich coming from the man who refused to acknowledge, he had a heart. 

“I’m not lying!” He couldn’t stress this enough but maybe if he did, Jason would finally get it into that thick noggin of his.

“Then what are you sayin’, huh?” at least, he didn’t shout anymore, voice slightly more subdued. 

“Nothing,” Dick breathed, unsure all of a sudden if this was the best course of action considering how Jason usually handled expressions of affections, “nothing, forget it…”

“No! You tell me what is going on or I swear, I’ll walk out this door and you’ll never see me again!” He _had_ caught on them. Probably only on a subconscious level but he had. This was emotional blackmail and it only worked because deep down, Jason knew, Dick would never let him walk out like that.

“I liked you,” Dick whispered, “even back then.”

“Had a funny way of showing it!”

“No, Jason,” Dick tried again, this time more forcefully, “I _liked_ you.”

“I heard you.”

“I don’t think, you do.”

“Probably ‘cause you’re not makin’ any sense, Dickhead!”

“I _liked_ you, Jason!” like the fuse had just run out, he exploded “as more than a brother! More than a friend! And I couldn’t- it was so goddamn wrong and I couldn’t do that to you! I had _no_ right-”

“Woah, wait a minute-” he held out his hand as if that would stop the words from sinking in, “is that-”

Dick noticed how Jason’s breath came out in huffs, “is that what you were- what you were saying?”

“What?”

“Back there? When you came to talk to me and I ran out- and then when I- when I hit you?” 

“Kind of?” 

“Damn it, Dickie-” he wiped his face with one of those stupidly large hands, looking damn good doing it. Dick got the feeling, he hadn’t screwed up by some miracle.

“Why didn’t you ever – I don’t know – say something?”

“I did- but you didn’t hear me…”

“That’s ‘cause I didn’t know! I didn’t get it!”

“Would it have changed anything?”

“What?”

“If you had? If you’d heard me?”

“Yes.”

“Jay-”

“I just- how is that true?! I don’t get it? You were always so goddamn distant when I was- back then. And now, you’re tellin’ me, you liked me or somethin’?” 

“Don’t you remember?”

“Remember what exactly?”

“I stood too close. I backed you into each available corner. I pushed you down on the mats in training.” 

“That- that was just-”

“Normal? No, Jay, it wasn’t- I felt awful every time I did it but I couldn’t-” he heaved a sigh, “I couldn’t _resist_.”

“Couldn’t resist what?”

“ _You_! Because you’re so- Jay, you’re so enticing, you have no idea… you’re-” he paused, hesitated briefly, “you’re damn near perfect for me, Jay. You’ve always been…”

“How? No, seriously, how? I’ll buy that you maybe found me interesting back them but how on earth can you stand here and say that? I’m near perfect for you? Ha, I don’t think so Goldie!”

Dick chuckled and it was a rather self-deprecating thing.

“But you are, Little Wing,” he whispered, “you are…”

“Don’t you call me that!”

“Why not?”

“’m not little anymore.” Jason mumbled it like he knew, that was not the reason Dick called him that. 

“True,” he had to hand it to him, little was not an adjective he would ascribe to Jason. Still, he added “but it kinda stuck.”

“Just-” Jason made waved his hand around likely to make Dick go on.

“Continue?” Dick said around another smile, that too less of that happy and more of the self-conscious sort. But he powered on once he saw Jason’s affirming nod. At least, he wasn’t running yet.

“We fit together,” he made eye contact, tried to make Jason understand what precisely he was saying, what was on offer here. 

“We complement each other and I- I always thought, you were- I don’t know – good for me?” 

“Good for you?” Jason chuckled around the question and even Dick saw the humour in it. 

“Yeah, you-” he sighed “like when we trained together, it just _fit_ , you know?”

“You coulda had anyone,” Jason said and sounded like he had given this more thought than would have been appropriate, especially, if he wasn’t interested. Dick allowed himself to hope this meant, he was. Interested in Dick, that is. He contemplated his answer for a while, wanting it to be exactly so that it would ring through to Jason. 

Finally, he said “there was just always something about you…” Jason’s eyes never left his, like they were glued to Dick’s, “something I never found in anyone else,” he let the chuckle make it past his lips, “and believe me, I tried.”

“You tried what?” Now, Dick knew Jason wasn’t that dense but he strongly suspected there were some unhealthy coping mechanisms at work. Denial, most prominently featured. 

“Looking,” he said and watched Jason’s jaw set. 

“Looking?” Jason reiterated, in a tone a bit biting. Dick almost gave in to the smile tugging on his lips. Because for all Jason’s shrugging, he sounded damn near jealous. And now that he thought about it, Jason had always sounded like that whenever Dick had paraded a new conquest around. 

“Looking for that in someone else.”

“And?” It was a rather tense question, like Jason wasn’t sure of the answer he would get. Dick snorted. There really had ever only been one answer to that. 

“Didn’t find it.”

“Dickie…” It seemed, Jason finally caught onto what he was really saying. 

“I don’t need to hear it from you. Not at all. But-” the request was on the top of his tongue and it took a lot for him to voice it, “but I need to know if you’re- if that’s something you’d be interested in?”

“That?”

“Us,” he clarified, “giving us a shot.” Jason would probably never know how much it cost Dick to say these words, to admit that he had been thinking about Jason in those terms a lot longer than it was appropriate. Putting his head on the chopping block like that with Jason’s emotional axe hovering over his neck made him uneasy. Yet, he had to be brave here, he realised. After losing Jason that first time, he had sworn to himself never to miss a chance like this again. And he wasn’t about to break his promise now. Not when Jason was all he had wanted for so long and still standing beside him.

He hadn’t run yet.   
  


* * *

Nothing about this situation could be labelled under “the usual bat crap”. Jason had trouble keeping his thoughts from derailing and his body from flinging itself out of the non-existent window. But Dick looked so trusting, so hopeful and he just couldn’t.

When he heard Dick say that he wanted there to be a _them_ , Jason’s entire body sagged with relief. Maybe, his face didn’t show it, though, because Dick still searched his eyes for an answer.

“Okay,” Jason said, somehow keeping his voice even despite the tremor in his hands and the flutter of his heart.

“Yeah?” Jason noticed how excited Dick sounded even though a hesitance still lingered in his voice. Like he wanted to believe it but, at the same time, didn’t dare hope. That, that one little glimpse of insecurity cemented it in Jason’s mind, made him feel at ease.

“Yes,” he re-affirmed, nodding along with it. The second the word registered in Dick’s head, Jason could see it. His whole face lit up like Jason had seldomly watched it before. The blinding smile was back, making it almost hard to look at him because it hurt in his eyes.

“I-” Dick stumbled over his words again, like he was just as nervous as Jason. 

“I wanna kiss you,” he said and Jason’s heart did a weird little stumble. He could have sworn, there had been a moment of silence, one beat where it had set out. Because this was different.

There was no misinterpreting, no misunderstanding Dick’s intention. Not with the way he had asked.

“Go for it,” he managed to say, far cockier than he felt.

“You sure?” Dick wasn’t wrong for questioning it. Especially after the catastrophe that had happened the last time. Now that Jason thought about it, that kiss hadn’t been altogether pleasant.

Sure, kissing Dick would always make his breath come fast but he barely had had time to accommodate to the new sensation when Dick had pulled away again. It had been more of a crushing their mouths together really.

“Yeah,” he breathed, remembering that Dick had, in fact, asked him a question, “I’m sure.” 

And once again, that smile nearly made Jason fall over. Meanwhile, Dick stepped close, hands coming up to Jason’s shoulders. It still gave him a sick sort of satisfaction to be reminded of their height difference. Even though, he didn’t protest too much whenever Dick called him Little Wing.

Still, Dick grinned up at him, eyes impossibly dark and closer than before. Jason enjoyed the built up, relished that there was no hurry. Dick gave him plenty of time to move away before standing on his tip toes to reach him. Jason breathed in once and then they were kissing. First, a soft brush of lips then he opened up and let Dick take control. It didn’t come easy but this felt so different.

He didn’t need to pull Dick against him until they melted together, didn’t feel the urge to hold him still and dominate the kiss. Rather, he let Dick’s tongue explore his mouth, hands softly laying around Jason’s neck. It didn’t make his flight instinct burst to life. Dick’s fingers traced the skin there, a barely-there pressure against his pulse point. Jason shivered, moved into it more. Of course, Dick instantly noticed.

“Like that, Little Wing?” he asked and Jason decided he had never heard anything sexier than Dick’s voice when it was this low. A deep rumble, close to his Nightwing voice and so very enticing. Like an idiot, he kept nodding, probably making himself look like one of those puppies with the bobble head.

 _Great_.

Not exactly what he wanted to portray.

Dick had the gall to grin and say “thought so” before moving back in. The kiss stayed gentle and calm like Dick knew Jason would freak if it evolved further. He just- he had never had that before.

Being kissed like he mattered.

* * *

Jason had been thinking about what exactly they were and if they really needed to put a label on it for a whole week when he got the call. Dick – apparently very much in distress – yelled into his phone that he needed help. He had been injured two days before and wasn’t up to par at the moment. And Jason hung up, straddled his bike and took off right this second because he would not let Dick down now. Not when it was the first time he had actually asked for Jason’s help.

He had no idea how he hadn’t heard it from one of his many sources before now but one of Gotham’s main vaults was being targeted by the new gang on the block. Jason hated everything about this. At least, whenever their usual edgy supervillains hit the bank, they knew how to deal with it. Only last month, Eddie had staged an attack on three different banks. Unsuccessfully to say the least.

But those ones?

The new ones?

They were unpredictable and dangerous. A combination which Jason did not appreciate unless he was the one being described. His bike screeched to a halt right besides Dick’s. He had foregone his suit tonight and stood there in civilian clothes. Jason didn’t know if he wanted to smack him across the head or shove his helmet at him to put on.

“Thank god you made it,” Dick breathed out like everything up to this point had not been going according to plan.

“Where’re the others?” Jason wanted to know, “how come you’re here alone?” There was no way Bruce would let Dick to this by himself. Not after their many disputes about backup and unnecessary risks. And especially not after all those close encounters and almost-dead Robins. Or more than almost but he wasn’t thinking about that. 

“They’re on the way.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Thirty minutes.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me…”

“No.” And he looked so stressed. Jason had rarely ever seen Dick fidget this much.

This day, honestly.

“What the hell, Dick?” He couldn’t help it. This didn’t make any sense. What did make sense though was why Dick was freaking. And why he had called Jason.

“They were on a mission when I got the call.” The bigger question was why they had left him to his own devices with an injured shoulder. Jason would take that up with Bruce. It just didn’t sit right with him. Then again, this was as much his city as it was the bat’s and in Bruce’ fucked up logic, he had probably counted on that. Still, they would have _words_. 

“So you raced here to go in by yourself?”

“I didn’t know it was this bad until I arrived.” On that note, it _was_ bad. They had approximately 25 people in there at gun point, five kids among them. They had goons at every door, security cameras were cut off, as was communication. This had been organised well in advanced, Jason realised.

Although, that begged the question “what do they want?”

“That’s just it,” Dick cracked his knuckles, “they didn’t say.”

“But that’s-”

“Bad?” the chuckle coming from Dick’s throat was so hysteric, Jason almost flinched back, “why do you think I called you?”

“So what’s the plan?”

“I don’t know! I’ve been standing here for ten minutes and nothing happened.”

“Nothing?” he found that exceptionally hard to believe. Mobsters, gangsters, thugs, supervillains, they all wanted _something_. Nobody took hostages in a vault for nothing. At least not if you still had all your marbles. 

“No. The GCPD can’t go in when they have so many people in there and I can’t go in alone.”

“Fine,” he was already checking the roof for a possible entry, “I’ll go in.”

“What? No!” Dick instantly stepped into his way, arms crossed.

“Yes,” Jason argued, “that’s why you called me. ‘Cause I can go in there and get the job done.”

“You’re not seriously-”

“Dick!” Jason interrupted him, “we’re running out of time and there are kids in there! The police can’t do shit and you obviously can’t go in there with that injury! That only leaves me!”

“They have explosives!”

That made Jason pause where he was loading his guns. Explosives of any kind made him uneasy when they weren’t in his own hands. And even if they were, he hated the loud noise when they went off. Startled him. 

“They’ll kill you,” Dick’s voice carried to him where he was rummaging through his bag of weapons he had stored in his bike “if you go in there.”

“Borrowed time, right?” he threw over his shoulder with a lopsided grin. He needed Dick to stand down and let him do this or 25 people were going to die. 

“What?”

“Look, I should be dead anyway. It doesn’t really matter.” He had no idea how he made it sound like that, like he didn’t give a fuck when his stomach turned even thinking about it. But he had to pull this off. It was the only way Dick would stay put. 

“Yes, it does,” Dick spluttered, face red, “and you’re not going in there.”

“We don’t exactly have choice here, Dickie. So, unless you want your pretty face to be spread all over the building in tiny little pieces, you’re gonna have to let me go in there.” That should have been the final say on the matter but Dick was Dick and that was that. 

“Jason-” he started again, reaching for him like that would miraculously stop him. In his head, Jason squashed down the urge to let him. If only he could. He shook off the thought, squared his shoulders.

“No,” he snapped, trying to appear like he truly didn’t give a damn, “I’ll deal with this and you stay out here.”

“I won’t let you go in there. Either I go with you or you’re staying out here as well.” It was a stupid point to make when Dick knew very well he was physically unable to go in. And Jason was about to point that but Dick refused to let him.

“That wasn’t a request, Jason. I’m not letting you do this. Not for us and not for anyone else.”

“Why not?” God, he shouldn’t have asked. Why was he even entertaining the idea? He had a job to do. There was no time for this nonsense. Even though, a part of him ached with hearing Dick give all his reasons why this was a bad idea. Maybe, he figured, that’s why he was still out here. Because it was the only way to hear those things.

“Because you deserve better! Don’t you get that? You deserve _better_!” That insistent ache in his belly turned full on longing when Dick said that. Nobody ever had before. Jason’s self-hatred had let him believe it had been his fault, that he had deserved what he had gotten and listening to Dick stating the opposite soothed him more than he wanted to admit. He didn’t let any of this show on his face, though, fully aware Dick would see the opening and use it. They couldn’t have that. 

“You have no idea what I deserve, Dick.” Getting angry helped pull this off so that was the emotion he gave into.

“I do!” Dick argued, “and you don’t deserve to die! You didn’t then and you sure as hell don’t now! And I won’t let you do this!”

“It’s not your decision to make, Dickhead.” Jason really didn’t how to make him understand. He was their only chance, the only chance of the people inside who were counting on someone to save them. Just like Jason had been counting on Bruce. And Bruce hadn’t shown. There was no way Jason would do the same. Not after he knew how that felt.

“Please,” Dick breathed, quickly changing course, “please don’t go in there. Wait here with me.”

“For what?” It was a legitimate question, one Jason knew, Dick didn’t have an answer to.

“For the others. We can do this together. You don’t have to sacrifice yourself like this.” It wasn’t a sacrifice. Jason had every intention on coming out of there alive. Sure, there was always the possibility of this going fundamentally wrong but he had been in tight spots before. 

“It’s the right thing to do, Dickie,” Jason breathed out, exhausted at arguing this into the ground, “someone has to go in there. You know that.”

“But if you go in there, you’ll die!”

“I’ve had worse,” he tried to shrug it off, make light of the situation because he needed Dick to let him go in there. They had no more time to waste.

“Don’t!” Dick bit out, “don’t you dare joke about that!”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not funny!”

“It’s also not the point, Dick,” he reminded him, eyes glued to the building where he saw a sniper aiming at the building down the window at the front entrance. Apparently though, Dick still wasn’t finished. 

“Why are you so big on sacrificing yourself like that, huh? Do you want to die? Is that it?”

“No,” Jason couldn’t bite down on the chuckle erupting in his belly, “ _hell_ no, Dickie, that’s not it.”

“Then why-”

“’Cause there are kids in there. Good kids who don’t deserve to die!”

“You don’t either!”

“That’s the job, Big Bird. I knew what I signed up for.” Better than anyone else in this family, safe for the spawn. 

“I can’t- Jay- I _can’t_ -”

“What?” he snapped, fist clenching around nothing. He needed to get a move on now or he would never go in there. God knew, if anyone could convince him, it would be Dick. 

“I can’t lose you a second time! Not you!”

“Why?” and now, Jason was the breathless one. 

“Because you mean too much to me,” he said, and there was resignation and fear mixing in his voice, “you always have.”

“We’re-” he inhaled heavily, “we’re gonna talk about this later, Dickie. But for now, I have a job to do and not much time left.”

“Don’t-” Dick tried again, holding onto himself like it physically hurt him that Jason was about to go in. Jason refused to think about that, had no mental capacity left to think about that or he wouldn’t be able to focus.

“Sorry, can do, Dickie,” he said and whirled around effectively knocking Dick off his feet before he made a run for it, grapple already in his hand.

* * *

The fifteen minutes it took for the others to arrive felt like the blink of an eye and yet like eternity to Dick. He had watched Jason climb that building too fast for Dick to follow, with his shoulder useless as it was. Tim was the first beside him, shaking him out of his stupor. He barely had the breath to explain what had occurred, why he was standing outside like an idiot when Bruce laid out a strategy.

If they counted in how fast Jason moved, how skilled he was, they would be down at least four men. Trouble was, they had no idea how many were in there and Jason was unreachable over his comms.

Dick refused to worry, moved robotically behind Damian. On their way, they came across two thugs manning the door. Bruce and Tim each knocked out one and Dick was left standing with nothing to do.

He was glad.

There was no way he would have been able to concentrate enough to do this without injuring himself further. Not that he cared as long as he didn’t have Jason back. Another door down and they reached the main hall.

At first, Dick didn’t put it together, too horrified with how the hall looked. Blood splattered everywhere, people cowering in the corners, seemingly scared to death. There were bodies on the ground. Five as far as Dick could tell. Two were still moving, writhing around in their own blood with bullet holes in their legs.

It still didn’t click in Dick’s head.

Not until he saw the figure hovering at the backdoor, half concealed in the darkness.

They turned around and Dick’s heart set out when he saw who it was, what he held in hand.

* * *

Jason dropped the head with disgust. His vision was still tinged sickeningly green but when he saw Dick standing there, it retreated a little. That didn’t make his anger go away, though.

“Satisfied now?” he asked, venom dripping from his voice when he saw how Dick looked at him. The other bats turned away, scrambled almost, probably to get to the hostages. Probably also to shield them from Jason, protect them from him. Only Dick remained in front of him, eyes impossibly wide.

“Jay-”

“What now? Can’t handle the truth? I told you, it did things to me. Sorry if that’s too much to handle for your precious feelings.” He expected a comment, something biting and harsh.

_You’re crazy._

_You should be put into Arkham._

_There’s something wrong with you._

Neither of these was what he got. Instead, Dick’s gaze trailed down his body, scanning it almost.

“You’re hurt,” he said with no intonation whatsoever. Jason harrumphed. 

“Don’t feel a thing, Dickiebird. I’m perfectly fine.” Only he wasn’t. He realised it, when the adrenaline drained from his body, when it became clear that danger had passed.

“Jason,” Dick insisted for what felt like the hundredth time, “you’re _hurt_.”

“So what?” He didn’t want the pity, didn’t want to be cuddled and attended to. Not with the way Dick stared at him like a wounded animal. A _beast_.

“Let me take care of it,” his eyes were too wide, “please.”

“What?” 

“Sit- Jay please sit down.” But that was not an option. Instead, he clung to the wall for support, refused to let go. He would take this standing like he had everything else. There was no way, he was about to sit down. While Dick huffed, Jason’s mind started to wander. 

He could not make sense of Dick’s behaviour. At all. This was not in any way, shape or form what Jason had anticipated, expected even. Dick was supposed to be disgusted, appalled, to never ever want to breathe the same air as him again. And now, Dick fussed over him, eased him down to the ground, pulling his gloves off his lax hands. Jason noticed how Dick’s fingers trembled where he dabbed at the wound in Jason’s thigh.

“What’re you doin’?” he asked, anger evaporating quicker than ever before at being treated so gently.

“I’m helping,” was Dick’s clipped answer. He didn’t look up once, eyes glued to where his hands were working.

“I’ve got them-” the replacement yelled from hell knew where. Jason hadn’t even realised, he was still there. At least, the green slowly started to ebb down.

“How is he?” Jason heard somewhere to his right. He whipped around, fearing to see the replacement or the spawn injured. But Bruce was looking straight at him. That couldn’t be right, though, could it.

“I don’t know-” Dick sounded like someone was strangling him, “they must have gotten him bad.”

“Jason,” Bruce was suddenly in front of him without Jason having seen him move. And when had Jason sat down? He couldn’t remember. 

“How badly are you hurt?”

“Huh?” They didn’t mean him, did they?

“He’s not resposnding.”

“I can see that, Dick.”

“Do something!”

“I can’t do anything until Tim gets the car!”

“Father,” The demon spawn was here too now? Great. That’s what Jason needed. Humiliating himself in front of the kid. 

“Drake is waiting for you.” 

“I’ll be right there, Jason, okay? Keep your eyes open.” And with that, the big black shadowy figure swooshed away. Jason felt uneasy at seeing it gone.

“This has to stop,” Dick mumbled, meanwhile furiously pressing down on Jason’s thigh, “this has _got_ to stop…”

“What’cha talkin’ about?” Jason mumbled. The edges of his visions turned black, fading in and out again and he felt impossibly dizzy. Dick didn’t seem to hear him.

“If you die on me now, Jay, I’ll never forgive you,” Dick was a lot closer than Jason remembered him being, “I will never forgive you if you leave me like this. Do you hear me?”

Distantly, he felt himself nodding, a dull ache in his chest. He wanted to make a joke and tell Dick he was being an idiot. Dying didn’t feel like this. Not even remotely.

The world turned black before he could.

* * *

Waking up after an ambush like that paired with a severe pit episode was nothing Jason ever wanted to experience again. His head alone would have killed him right there if not for the water on his nightstand.

Oh and Dick.

Dick was also there.

Hovering like a goddamn mother hen.

“How are you?” It could have sounded kind if Dick’s voice didn’t seethe and his teeth weren’t bared. From that, Jason could tell, he was in deep trouble. But hey, he was alive. That had to earn him back some points, right?

“Have been better,” he tried sitting up but Dick immediately pressed him back down. None too gently either.

“It’s your own fault.” Oh. Okay. Dick was really angry, he wasn’t just playing it up. Jason had half a mind to argue his point but one look at Dick’s pinched expression and he refrained.

“I’m so mad at you, you have no idea,” Dick said in a low tone, eyes narrowed.

He didn’t need to ask why. Not when the events of that day slowly came back to him, one by one. How Dick had begged him to stay outside, how he had gone in anyway. The way Dick had found him.

“You do this deliberately,” Dick said out of nowhere, surprising Jason in the middle of a recap of what had happened, right up to the severed head in his hands.

“What?”

“You heard me. You do this deliberately. Let yourself get hurt. I wondered, you know? Why you would volunteer like that even though there was no need. But now, I get it.”

“You don’t get nothin’,” Jason tried to deflect with the horrible feeling in his chest that Dick did, in fact, know.

“Oh, but I do! I do, Jay!” Dick’s nostrils flared in a way that looked deadly, “you wanted to go in there because you knew, they would hurt you!”

“That’s bullshit,” he tried steering the conversation to another topic by putting on a nonchalant smile, hoping to derail Dick from picking him apart any further. Jason could only imagine what Dick would think if he found out how spot on he was. 

“It’s not! You _wanted_ them to hurt you! Just like you did that night when you hit me!” There it was. His stomach turned and he had to breathe for a moment to force the bile back down his throat. Once he had gotten his emotions under control, he said “you’re talkin’ nonsense, Goldie.”

“I’m not though, am I?” Dick’s eyes were glued to his, the blue in them flickering with something unhinged, “because I saw the injuries on your face! I saw the bruises Jay and those look exactly like the ones after a bar fight! Now tell me, why would you of all people get into a bar fight when all you would have to do is pull out that gun of yours and the fight would be over real quick!”  
Jason, unsurprisingly did not have an answer for that. Dick was too right and it seemed like he knew it.

“Exactly! You don’t have an answer because there isn’t one! You _want_ to get hurt! That’s why you’re doing this, why you let yourself get beaten up by people half your size! You’re Red Hood for god’s sake! You put Bruce on the mat! There is no one in this goddamn city you couldn’t best if you put your mind to it! But that’s not what happened, is it? You didn’t get jumped! You sought out that fight! So that they would hurt you!”

“And whose fault was that?” He didn’t want to consider what made him say that or why he had. The only thing that mattered was to get Dick to back _off_. Jason couldn’t- he just couldn’t do this. Dick would never understand. 

“What?” He could see how Dick had no idea what he was on about. How could he? Jason had never told him his feelings on the matter. But this was as good a time as any to remedy that.

“You were the one rejecting me,” he said, “and now you wanna get mad at me for dealing with it?”

“I never rejected you!” Dick bellowed, “you just were determined to hear it like that!” 

“Then maybe, you need to work on what you’re sayin’.” 

“Maybe!”

Silence spread between them. Jason kept his eyes glued to the ceiling so he didn’t have to see Dick’s accusatory facial expression anymore. That didn’t last long though because Dick gripped his chin and forced his gaze to settle on him.

“Jay-” he took a breath, probably to keep that shaky little thing that had taken hold of his voice, at bay, “you need help.”

Before Jason could protest, before he could do anything really, Dick continued. “I mean it. I realise, coming back was a lot- harder than you let on but you can’t do what you did back there,” he paused, “I can’t let you.”

“Why?” Dick seemed to mull it over in his head before deciding on an answer. 

“Because you didn’t see yourself when I came in.”

“What do you mean?”

“You weren’t-” the gesture Dick made was too complex to decipher but he followed it up with an explanation, sparing Jason the effort it would have had to ask, “it was like you weren’t even there with me. You were bleeding so heavily and you didn’t even notice.”

“Adrenaline,” was the only thing he could think of. Well, not the only thing but the one Dick would want to hear. Jason wasn’t an idiot. He knew, he couldn’t tell Dick what it had truly been. Why he had seemed so out of it.

“No. It’s more than that,” Dick said, sounding far too knowledgeable for Jason’s liking, “you said, it was the pit- that it’s still affecting you and I saw- Jason, I saw what you meant, okay? Your eyes- the way you looked- it was- it scared me.”

For a long time, Jason just stared. Because Dick had figured it out just like that and he had nothing to say. At last, he did the only thing he could. He apologised.

“Sorry.”

“No,” Dick instantly held up his hand, “no- please don’t apologise. I just- I need you- one day, I need you to tell me what happened.”

His first instinct was to run but he knew that wasn’t an option so, with a strangled voice he said “I can’t-”

“I know. I’m not saying you have to now. I just- I think, it would help because then I know what sets you off and how we can- how we can avoid that.”

“You’re not leaving,” Jason said when the realisation finally sunk in. He couldn’t quite believe it until Dick chuckled and asked “Why would I be leaving?”

“Because you saw-” he had to swallow before going on, “you saw what I did in there.”

“But that wasn’t you, was it?”

“What?”

“It wasn’t you in there. Not fully,” when Jason still didn’t understand, Dick leaned in and said “I saw that green in your eyes- I _saw_ the pit in there. I know what that means.”

“Do you?” He didn’t quite hope yet, didn’t let himself. But Dick, determined as ever to prove him wrong, laid it all out on the table for him. 

“Yes,” Dick’s smile reached his eyes and Jason finally breathed out, “because it wasn’t you.”

“And that’s good enough for you? Just like that?” It was easier asking now that he dared hope the answer wouldn’t be no. 

“Yes,” he said and Jason wanted so badly to believe him. He could almost feel it thrumming in his body, barely out of reach and still so close. A happy ending to this. Some luck, finally on his side for once.

“Dick, I-” he swallowed around a dry throat, “I never meant to do that.”

“I know. You were angry when you walked in but you were still you.” He couldn’t believe Dick knew the difference. No one ever did. They just thought it was all of the same when Jason could differentiate his anger and the pit madness easy as pie. Like red versus green. And Dick had _noticed_. 

“Don’t you want to know?”

“Know what?”

“When it switched?”

“If you can tell me?” _Can_. Not _want_. Jason knew how much of a difference was between those two words. Like Dick knew he wanted to tell him but wasn’t sure if he could.

“Later?” he settled on, aware how much he put on Dick in that moment. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell Dick about how they had held him down, had shot him and hurt him and had left him bleeding on the floor. That was when the pit had taken over like it so often did when he was nearing his end again. 

“Okay,” Dick agreed so easily and the beginning of a smile tugged at his lips. He was quite a sight like this. Hair dishevelled, bags under his eyes but still so stunning. 

“Do you-” it cost his heart and a bit of pride he didn’t know he still had to ask, “will you stay?”

“If you want me here?”

Jason didn’t answer verbally. He didn’t think, he could.

But Dick seemed to understand him either way.   
  


* * *

A week had passed since that horrid day. Dick was still at Jason’s, unable to leave until he saw Jason stand on his own without his knees wobbling. Maybe, he was a tad overprotective but after watching the blood literally drain from Jason’s body where he had been injured, Dick didn’t want to take any risks.

“Stop fidgeting,” he scolded while helping Jason into a new shirt. The lights were out but a streetlamp illuminated the room just enough for him to at least guess what he was doing. He had learnt that first night that Jason felt uncomfortable with Dick watching him while he got dressed. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if Jason didn’t need his help to put on a shirt.

“Can’t help it. It tickles,” Jason mumbled, shying away from his hands. 

“Ohh, so, you’re ticklish.” He delighted in the prospect. Having Jason giggle was the cutest thing in the world. 

The horrified “no” came way too quickly.

“I’ll find out one day, you know?” He promised with a smirk. Not that Jason would see it but it was there.

“I’m injured,” came the prompt reply which sounded too much like an excuse for Dick to take seriously.

“That’s why I said one day,” he chuckled and finally managed to get Jason’s head into the shirt before pulling it down.

“How are you feeling?” he asked while sitting down on the bed. It still felt strange knowing that this was Jason’s bed.

“Better,” Jason offered but didn’t elaborate. His wounds were slowly starting to heal and the bullet holes didn’t bleed through the bandages anymore. Dick was, well, not satisfied but relieved. It had been tough for a while. 

“Dick?”

“Hm?” he didn’t really listen, too caught up in fluffing up the pillow so Jason could rest comfortably. A hand to his wrist stopped him. He looked up and found Jason hovering way too close. A part of him wanted to move back, thinking Jason hadn’t meant to do that, but the other part – the bigger one – wanted to wait it out. Jason, even in the dark, searched his eyes for something.

After having seemingly found it, whatever it was, he leant in. It took all Dick had not to splutter and move away when Jason’s lips pressed against his. He had been so sure, Jason would never initiate something like this that he had been caught off guard. Now though, after the realisation had trickled in, he shook off his stupor. His hands, almost without his consent, closed around Jason’s neck but he didn’t pull him in, just let them rest there. It was like his mind knew that he had to be careful here and his body had decided to follow suit.

“I can take it,” Jason mumbled against his lips, fingers finding Dick’s waist and settling around it.

“Don’t want to hurt you.”

“Just-” the breath Jason took was filled with so much emotion, Dick didn’t quite know what to do with it, “just please, okay? I need that right now.”

No one expected him to say no to that, right? Because there was no way he would ignore a plea like that. From Jason of all people who never asked for what he wanted, let alone needed. He had Dick wrapped around his finger and Dick suspected, he didn’t even know.

Their kiss turned a bit more passionate and a little less sweet when Dick finally let his tongue dart out to lick over the seams of Jason’s lips. Jason shivered against him, jaw dropping open.

“Touch me?” Jason breathed right against his lips before scooting backwards. At first, Dick couldn’t make sense of the two mixed signals he was getting before he realised, Jason had made space for him to move without hurting him. Dick would have applauded his smart mind if he hadn’t been busy drooling at Jason in sweat pants and a white t-shirt. It shouldn’t have been erotic but something about this show of domesticity got to him on another level. He figured it was because no one ever got to see Jason like that.

Quickly, he crawled over, mindful of the injury to Jason’s leg and settled in between his spread thighs. 

“Like that?” he asked, hips rolling down to meet Jason’s. He felt more than heard the affirming rumble in Jason’s chest and leant down to capture his mouth in another kiss. Tentatively, Dick’s hands moved under Jason’s shirt, careful not hurt him. Jason stiffened, abs clenching tightly.

“You’re still beautiful…” the words left him involuntarily when he realised what the issue was.

“Fuck off,” Jason instantly bit back angrily. Dick didn’t blame him. It was rather obvious what Jason thought about himself in the way Dick had seen him shy away from mirrors.

“I mean it, Jay,” he insisted, palm settling against the large scar on his rib cage. Jason almost skyrocketed off the bed at the contact. Dick imagined no one had ever touched him like this before. Certainly not his scars. 

“How?” He asked while pointing at himself like he wanted Dick to take a real close look. Which he had. Many times more than he should have. And it didn’t change a thing. Jason was beautiful even with the scars. Or probably because of them. Each one was proof that he had survived. Dick just didn’t know how to put that into words. 

“You just are,” Dick whispered, “I always thought that and those-” he let his finger trail down the large scar in his chest, “they don’t change a thing.”

“How can-” Jason’s breath hitched, made him break off, “how can you say that?”

“Because you’re here, right? You made it through…” How could Jason not see what that meant to Dick? 

“But-”

“No,” he would not let Jason go another day, thinking Dick wasn’t in love with every part of him, “we take every win we can get. You said so yourself.”

“Dickie…”

“I never thought I’d get another chance at this. With you. And I’m not done holding back,” he paused, trailed that scar again just to make sure Jason knew, he wasn’t repulsed by it, “you’re mine, Jay, and I think you’re beautiful.”

Dick didn’t expect an answer to that and wasn’t disappointed when none came. His fingers traced the hem of Jason’s sweats, dipped lower. Jason tried to arch on the bed but quickly stopped when it jostled his leg.

“Just let me, okay?” Dick whispered into the crook of his neck, “I’ll make you feel good.” Jason nodded, fingers digging into Dick’s back. Finally, Dick found what he had been looking for. His mind almost blanked out when his fingers hit bare skin. Jason wasn’t wearing any underwear. Dick let his fingers curl around Jason’s length, silencing him with a kiss when he cried out.

“Tell me if it’s too much and I’ll stop, okay?” The nod didn’t go unnoticed when Dick started to move his hand. He could tell, Jason wasn’t used to this by the way his breath kept getting stuck. He increased the tempo a bit, pairing it with a nibble on Jason’s earlobe. The groan he got in response made his toes curl. Jason’s hands, he noticed were buried in the sheets. He had to be close, Dick thought, while leaning in for another kiss.

This wasn’t sex as he knew it. But the equivalent, what he really felt, scared him too much to put it into words. Otherwise, he would have blurted out something stupid like love-making and Jason would scramble for the blanket and throw Dick off. But that’s what it was, Dick admitted to himself. That’s what they were doing. Because they meant something to each other and in that moment, Dick was sure, Jason felt the same. He didn’t need a confirmation.

When he twisted his wrist on an upstroke, thumb pressing down on Jason’s slit, Jason’s mouth dropped open. Dick felt his body jerk under him and grinned to himself.

“It’s okay,” Dick whispered into his skin, “I’ve got you. Just let go.”

“Dick-” he sounded almost frightened, like he didn’t know what to do with all of this desire pooling in his stomach.

“I want to see you come, Jaybird, you look so pretty like this.” Apparently, that was all it took. Jason’s abs clenched where Dick’s palm covered them, he stopped breathing, back taut like a bow. His cock jerked in Dick’s hand and his thighs clenched around him. The most delicious, soft moan made it past Jason’s lips and he held Dick close, shaking with the intensity of his orgasm.

Dick stroked him through it, whispering praise into his ear. 

Only when he was sure that Jason was done did he let up. It took a few minutes for Jason to get his bearings and when he did, Dick had already cleaned him up.

“I can-” he made a vague gesture towards Dick’s lower half but didn’t finish his sentence.

“I’m good. This wasn’t for me.” 

“Dick-”

“Hm?”

“It’s the same for me, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“What you said- before I- before I went in.”

“That I don’t want you to die?”

“No,” Jason turned then, almost as if he wanted to see Dick while saying it. Dick felt his stomach flutter and his heart beat up to his ears. He held onto Jason’s shoulder, needing it to steady himself for whatever Jason was about to say. Jason blinked a few times, mouth opening and closing before he breathed in.

_“You mean too much to me.”_


End file.
